


Second Chances

by TenjounoTora



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Inspired by Music, Song: Piano Man (Billy Joel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24879892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenjounoTora/pseuds/TenjounoTora
Summary: Things didn't turn out as planned. Jeff's company never took off, which meant that IR never got the funding it needed. Originally based off a small fic I wrote which was itself based off the song Piano Man.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	1. Piano Man

The home of the Tracy clan had been in Kansas for at least four generations. However, after marrying the love of his life and then losing her, Jeff moved his five sons to her hometown in the south eastern part of Utah so they would not lose touch with their grandparents there.

They were to only live with her parents for a few years until all the boys were in school, but one thing led to another and they ended up never leaving. So her hometown became theirs.

The town had a population of just over 500 people most of the year, only its main roads were paved, but city's main street was filled with buildings—most of which were historic—having been built in the late twentieth century.

There were plenty of sporting goods stores that offered equipment for rent and adventures for the tourists that flocked to the small town in the summer months that wanted to explore the nearby national park. There were a few souvenir shops and a couple of small connivance stores as well as some bed and breakfasts and some small motels. There were cafes and a couple small restaurants as well, but they weren't for the locals.

If you went down one of the side streets there were a couple nondescript doors that you would see the locals slipping into at the end of a day. One was a well known restaurant that had two fronts, one for the tourists and one for the locals. The other was a small bar run by the mayor. It was only open at night, and often doubled as a meeting place for town hall meetings.

The bar took up the majority of the brick building behind the city hall. The inside of the bar was dark but tidy—only one window in the front and sconces on the walls provided light. There were a couple of dart boards in one corner, a handful of tables with chairs that looked to be as old as the building, an ancient upright piano in another corner, and the bar along the back.

This was were the maids, waitresses, and ranchers came after their work was done and dinner had been had. There were other regulars that weren't part of the tourist trade as well, a few who had chosen to stay in town and commute to work would make their way in after returning to town and gulping down a quick meal. Regardless of where they worked they all had the same complaints and shared the good and bad in their lives.

Saturday nights were their busiest for some reason. No one in the area had the weekends off usually, but that was the night most liked to drown in the spirits offered to them.

The bar was already filling up. Many of its occupants starting as early as six o'clock in an attempt to make their lives seem a little bit better. But it wasn't until closer to eight that most people wandered in from work ready to socialize and help their day fade away.

"Jeff! Running a bit late tonight aren't you?" One of the owners of a sporting goods store held up his beer in greeting to the man that had just come through the door.

In contrast to most of the customers he was dressed in a suit and tie with his hair slicked back. "Had some last minute business come up. Fred Hanson over in Caineville had an issue with the wing on his plane. I had to do some negotiating with a vendor in Wichita to get the materials needed to fix so he could make it to Las Vegas this week."

"Ha! That plane of his is as old as I am. I'm surprised he can still use it at all." The man laughed and was joined in by some others nearby.

"I've definitely had a hand in patching it up more times than I have sons that's for sure."

Another roar of laughter followed him as he left the group and made his way to the back and the bar.

"Whisky, on the rocks."

The glass was on the bar in front of him before he had even finished his order.

"You've been ordering the same thing for the past five years. Why even say anything?"

"You never know when I'm going to feel like changing it up, then you'll have a glass of Whiskey to throw away and that would be a shame." Jeff looked up and smiled at the barkeeper, raising his glass in a silent toast and then took a sip. "Speaking of five years, wasn't this supposed to be a summer job?"

The barkeeper ran a hand through his red hair and smiled a little before picking up his towel and cleaning some of the glasses. "Well, I had thought about getting a job over in Green River, but the tips are better here."

Jeff laughed a little and shook his head. "Why don't you head back east and go back to school, John?"

"You know that's a little harder than it was, and each year it gets even harder."

"You had scholarships."

"Just for tuition and housing. Not for fees and books and all that. One book was over five-hundred dollars and I needed seven one semester alone—and we're talking about digital books at that. I can't even imagine what they would cost if they were still using hard copies."

"I had hoped schools would have gotten cheaper by the time you lot went, but instead they just got more expensive." Jeff sighed a little. "I had hoped that by quitting the Air Force and NASA and starting this business that I'd be able to give you all a good life, but—"

"Hey, you have given us a fine life, Dad. You taught us how to be good men, and to take care of others. No amount of money could have done that."

Jeff smiled a little.

"Now, how about some dinner? I can whip you up a sandwich real quick." He turned to a customer that had just walked up asking for some more beers. John pulled them out of the cooler and handed them over while keeping an eye on his father.

"Is Amber home tonight?"

"Afraid not. Her mother hasn't been doing well so she went home to help out. Mason has the fridge stuffed with cheese and lunchmeat to hold him over while she's gone."

"That sound about right." Jeff chuckled. "I'll pass. I'll get something when we get home."

"At two in the morning? What and when did you have lunch?"

Jeff straightened up and rubbed at his chin a little. "Around noon, and I think it was a mint and a cup of coffee."

John sighed and threw his towel down. "I swear, you're worse than Mason. At least he eats." John disappeared through a doorway and was gone for a few minutes. He returned with a ham sandwich and laid it down in front of his father. "Eat."

"Really, John, I'm not hungry."

"You spend too much time worrying about that company of yours. You need to take better care of yourself or Alan's going to lose both his parents before he's even out of school."

That comment got a glare from his father, but John just shrugged his shoulders as he held out another beer for a customer.

John went back to wiping down some glasses as the door once again opened and closed. He glanced up and smiled, nodding to the newcomer.

"I think I'm dreaming, is Dad actually eating something?" Virgil slipped into the seat next to his father.

"I'm not that bad."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Did you have anything other than coffee today?"

"He had a mint for lunch." John informed.

"I had some peanuts on the plane too."

"A mint and a small bag of peanuts doesn't count as a meal." Virgil shook his head. "Where's the other workaholic?"

"Scott ran home to send some papers real quick. Should be here soon."

"Might have to have another sandwich waiting, Johnny."

"Only if you hold him while I shove it down his throat."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Their father frowned at them. They usually weren't so hostile to each other like that.

"You can't say you haven't see it, Dad. Ever since Scott left the Air Force he's been a bit—grouchy."

"It's a tough transition. Trust me, I did it myself." Jeff sighed a little and reluctantly took a bite of the sandwich if only to keep his two sons off his back. "Not being able to fly as often really throws you down a hole."

"He's been flying you two back and forth from Salt Lake."

"A prop is not even close to being the same as a top of the line jet." Jeff took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He's just a bit lost is all. Give him time, he'll figure it out."

The brothers left their father to his sandwich as John handed over a cola to Virgil. "You playing a bit tonight?"

"Yeah, figured I would. Saturday's usually pretty good on the tipping."

"Agreed." John reached over and shook his own tip jar which was already half full of coins and bills.

"We'll need the extra with Alan coming home for spring break." Virgil smiled as he took a quick swig of his drink. "Any idea when to expect him?"

"He said he'd be home today, but no sign of him yet." Their father waved a hand at the air around him as if their youngest would appear out of thin air. "I hate that he's taken up that part time job at the air field. He shouldn't have to work, just concentrate on studying."

"It would be nice, but the fees and everything are just too expensive. At least he's found some good friends to be roommates with this summer. That'll help with rent." Virgil patted his father on the shoulder.

"I'm just not sure how we're going to afford next year. I got a letter earlier this week saying everything is going up, again."

"At least we don't have to worry about tuition. Financial Aid and scholarships helped with that." John poked at the plate with the half eaten sandwich on it.

"Yeah, but if that payed for everything you wouldn't be here, but up there." Virgil pointed to the ceiling and the sky beyond.

"MIT is different than Colorado State. I was able to get the first year paid, but after that—"

"So you got this job to help—yet you're still here."

"And Alan wants to do his graduate work at Cal Tech. You think that's going to be cheap? Dad's not going to be able to help him as much. Plus he's young, and has a lot of promise."

"John, you're only twenty-four!"

"Well, what about you?" John leaned on the bar, his face inches from Virgil's. "You had your eye on Denver didn't you? Why didn't you go to collage?"

"Enough." His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to stop his sons from bickering.

"Sorry." John sighed and straightened up.

"Nah, I ask that myself." Virgil turned the bottle around in his hands. "Sometimes I think of going—even part time would be something. I could do classes during the day, then weddings on the weekends and during breaks."

"You've never mentioned that before." Their father turned to face his second eldest.

Virgil turned to look at the piano to avoid his father's gaze. "I guess, like John, I want to make sure Alan gets through school first."

"I appreciate you boys looking out for your brother, but you need to live your own lives as well."

"He's got two more years. Cal Tech will be begging him to come study there and offer him all kinds of scholarships. Then maybe I'll look into Denver."

"Keep this up and you'll both be old men by the time you graduate."

Virgil and John laughed a little at that.

There were a few calls from behind them at Virgil to start playing already so he stood and made his way over to the piano.

The chatter in the bar quieted as the music started, the notes echoing off the brick walls.

The door opened again and the wayward eldest made his way to the bar. "I got those papers sent off to Seattle. Everything should be ready come Monday."

"Good to hear." Jeff patted Scott's shoulder as he sat down.

"John, how about a Whisky for me."

"How about a cola instead."

"Please, not today."

A plate was scooted in front of him. "Finish this while John goes and makes us another one. We'll split it and then you can have your Whisky."

Scott looked down at the half sandwich and then at his father. "I'm not going to win this am I."

"You lost when I did." Jeff smiled a little. "Eat up."

Scott picked up the sandwich and bit into it. "I thought you were supposed to be the head of the family. Since when did numbers three and four usurp you?"

"The second you went off to collage. They took your place and ganged up on me."

"Someone had to." John was back again, another sandwich for the two to share. "And it looks like our job's not over even with you back. Now we just got two old men to look after."

"I'm only four years older than you!"

"Yet you're already getting grey hairs." John reached forward and plucked one of the silver hairs from Scott's head.

"Ow!"

Jeff laughed at his sons but was stopped by the slam of the door behind them. The bar quieted down and looked at who had come in.

"You know when a kid comes home it should be to a homemade dinner and a house full of brothers. He shouldn't have to go looking for them at the local bar." Alan stood just inside the door with a duffle draped around his shoulders and his hands on his hips. "On top of that. Stop turning your ringers off! I just had to walk over five miles cause no one picked up their phone!"

The crowd in the bar erupted into laughter. "Watch out boys, the real boss just showed up!"

Alan stalked over to the bar and dropped his bag onto the floor. "I've called both of you at least five times each."

Jeff and Scott both reached into the pockets and pulled out their phones, on the screens were numerous missed calls from the same number.

"Sorry, squirt. We had this vendor calling us non-stop today. Forgot to unmute them." Scott pulled his littlest brother into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "Good to see you though."

"Yeah, you too." Alan dropped his angry act and hugged his brother back before turning to hug his father.

"Well, after a five plus mile hike I bet you're thirsty." John reached over the bar and ruffled his brother's hair as well.

"You bet! How about a beer?"

John leveled a gaze at him. "Alan, you're nineteen. Technically you shouldn't even be in here."

"I hope you haven't been making a habit of drinking at school?" Jeff was sipping at his own drink again as he eyed his son. He wasn't so out of it to know that kids tended to experiment when away from home.

"Nah, tried some when I first moved in last year, but honestly I don't see what you guys see in it. I thought it tasted gross."

"Good. Keep thinking that." Scott held up his own glass of freshly poured Whiskey in salute. "So, how has school been going?"

Alan accepted the bottle of cola John offered and sat down next to his dad. "I joined one of the teachers in his research this semester. You know years ago when they discovered that microwave thrust engine?"

"I do. They were hoping to use one on our trip to Mars, but there were a few bumps they could never get past."

"Well, he thinks he's figured out how to get past those hurdles."

"Are you serious? That would be amazing, can you imagine the satellites we could send out there, the data we could get?" John lit up at the news. "Any chance I can see some of that research?"

"Sure! I was hoping to talk to you about it anyways. I'm stuck on a bit of the math, and my professor figured a new perspective might help as well."

"I'm glad to see you're enjoying school." Jeff patted him on the back a little.

"Oh yeah, I've even applied for the astronaut training course. My adviser says I have a good chance of getting in, and that I'd be the youngest to get accepted if I do, as well."

"That's great!" His father tried to sound happy about the news, but the only thing on his mind were the dollar signs.

That didn't go past Alan though. "Don't worry. He said that my financial aid would pay for it, and since I'm so young there would be plenty of people who'd want to sponsor me being the youngest and all."

"That really is good news, Allie." Scott was also all too aware of the financial issues and didn't want the night to get ruined by talk of money and bills. "Tell me more about this research your'e helping with."

Alan frowned a little and leaned forward to look around their father at his brother. "Why'd you quit?"

"What?" Scott blinked a few times and looked at John and his father, but they just avoided his gaze.

"I think I'm going to go listen to Virgil for a bit." Jeff took his glass and vacated his seat.

"I best get these glasses washed off." John, too, left his brothers and wandered down to the other end of the small bar giving them a bit of room.

"The Air Force. Why'd you quit?" Alan straightened up and scooted over so he was sitting next to Scott.

"Why this all of the sudden?" Scott forced out a weak laugh but cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

"I've been wondering for a while now. I mean, you were good at it. You could have been a colonel like Dad! Why'd you quit?"

Scott sighed and looked down into his glass. "Well, you guys were a big reason. The company is struggling as I'm sure you know. Dad needed help."

"But the Air Force was your dream!"

"Alan." Scott laid a hand on the younger man's knee as he tried to organize his mind a little. "Sometimes dreams don't play out the way you hoped. I love flying, always will, but I just wasn't happy."

"Oh." Alan lowered his head a little.

"Are you disappointed in me?"

Alan shrugged. "Maybe a little. I was telling everyone how you were an ace pilot and were going to zoom up the ranks and all. And I was so excited to be able to watch you do that, but—" Alan shifted a bit on his seat not looking at his brother. "Are you happy now?"

Scott let out a sigh and rolled the glass between his hands. "I'm not unhappy."

"You don't want to be doing this, do you? You want to be in the skies flying."

"But I was miserable in the force, and Dad needed help. I'm not really sure what I could do to solve my issues."

"How about a commercial pilot?"

"Eh, no. That is probably the most boring piloting job out there."

"But you'd get to go to so many places."

"That would be the only plus to it."

They both chuckled a little at it. "What about the Air Force didn't you like? Was it the rigidity? All the rules and stuff?"

"No. I didn't mind that. It was actually kind of nice, you just knew things would happen because they were supposed to happen. I feel a little lost without it."

"Was it the flying?"

"That was the best part." Scott smiled down at his brother.

"Then what was it?"

"I think when I went into the academy and even going through school, I wanted to be deployed somewhere where I could help people. But I was told that my skill was too high for that. That meant that I got to fly some of the best planes, but into the worst situations."

Alan nodded, he could kind of understand what his brother was talking about. Scott had been deployed only once in his short stint in the Air Force but it had been to the Middle East and they had all spent the two years he was gone worried sick for their elder brother.

"But that wasn't completely it either. I could have stuck it out, and with a few promotions I would have been able to pick what I wanted to do. But something about that just didn't sit right with me." Scott wrapped his arm around Alan's shoulders and pulled him in close. "Hey, at least now the worst thing I have to worry about is getting on Dad's bad side and arguing prices with customers. I don't have to worry you guys about if I'll be home for Christmas or not."

"Yeah, now if we could only get Gordon back out of the ocean any time soon." Alan cracked a smile and hugged his brother back.

"Speaking of, does anyone know when Gordon's supposed to be done with his undersea stint?"

"Last I heard it was supposed to be this month sometime, but they wouldn't give him any precise date." John was back two more glasses of Whiskey. "One for you and one for Dad, if you don't mind taking it over for him."

Alan grabbed his cola and one of the glasses before jumping off the stool. "I'll ask when I talk to him next. We've been sending messages to each other every week. I should be getting one in the morning, I can send back and ask if it doesn't say anything."

Scott's smile was back as he followed him to the table his father sat at next to the piano. "That's more than he's talked to us, that I'm aware of."

"Who you boys talking about?" Jeff took the offered glass from Alan and patted the chair next to him.

"Gordon. Wondering when we'd see his ugly face again."

Virgil finished up a song and started shuffling his music a little on the stand. "Wasn't he supposed to come home this month?"

"That's what John was saying too." Alan sipped at his own drink. "I'll find out for us though. No worries."

"Hmm, it wouldn't be unusual for him to just show up one day out of the blue."

Scott laughed and nodded. "He does like surprises doesn't he?"

They quieted down a bit as they started to talk about the little things as Virgil began playing again. Their conversations fused with the low mumble of the other patrons and was lost among the clinks of glasses and bottles.

It was nearing on midnight, Jeff and Scott were nursing their third and mostly likely last glass of the night. Alan had a bottle of cola in his hand but was leaning heavily on his father's shoulder as if he were still a nine year-old and not the nineteen year old he was. Virgil was done for the night and at the bar talking to John who had stationed himself next to the beers so he could easily hand them out as the customers approached—only occasionally having to reach back for the harder liquors for a few of the patrons.

Pretty much everyone was there that was expected to show. They would stay for another hour until John started bugging them to pay off their tabs and head on home—though it wouldn't be until two that he could finally lock the doors and leave himself.

However, the door opened and slammed. All the conversations stopped and everyone looked to the stranger in the doorway.

"I've been sitting at the house for two hours waiting for someone to come home so I could surprise them, but instead I have to come hunt my family down."

The bar erupted in laughter as the second youngest Tracy made his way to the table where most of his family sat.

"Gordon!" Scott stood and pulled his brother into a hug and ruffled his hair while he was at it. "We were just wondering when you'd drag your ass back home."

"Can't help a guy trying to surprise you all." Gordon laughed and playfully punched his brother in the stomach. "So how's civilian life there, Scotty?"

"Busy and boring. I'm sure you can understand."

"Give me a week, then I'll be on the same page."

"Gordon? You're not—"

"What? No! They just gave me a month off after being underwater for a year." Gordon laughed. "I'd go crazy without WASP."

It had taken Alan a bit to get woken up but once he realized who had shown up he jumped from his chair and about tackled his next eldest brother. "Gordo!"

"Hey, Allie. Wasn't expecting you. Spring Break or something?" Gordon hugged his brother who had somehow gained an inch on him.

"Yeah. I can't believe the luck! The whole family together!"

"He's right, I'm not sure the last time that happened." Their father laughed as he stood and pulled his wayward son to him. "I was starting to wonder if you had ever existed or if it had been some kind of fever dream."

"Hey, I'm the best kind of fever dream!" Gordon cackled as Virgil made his way over to ruffle his brother's hair as well.

"Gordon, beer?" John was still behind the bar but was holding up a cold bottle for his brother.

"Too late for that, Johnny! But a nice cold glass of water would be great!"

"Coming right up." John stashed the bottle and pulled out a glass filling it with ice and then topping it up with nice cold water. Then he made his way out from behind the bar and pulled Gordon into a quick hug before handing it over.

Gordon's eyes widened, and his smile grew bigger. "Did you guys just see that! John hugged me!"

"What? No way." Virgil laughed and waved it off.

"Now, Gordon, you know John's not much of a hugger, no joking around." His father had a smile on his face as well.

"Just keep on dreaming Gordon, maybe one day." Scott patted Gordon on the shoulder.

Alan however snuck up behind John and hugged him. "No fair giving Gordon a hug and not me."

John laughed and turned around giving Alan a quick one as well before ruffling his hair. Then he made his way to the first of the tables to start handing out the bills.

"Ha! I got one too!"

The three remaining members of the family laughed. They sat back down at the table, Virgil joining them.

"So, what have I missed while I've been sleeping with the fish?"

"Not much." Jeff smiled and nodded toward Scott. "We've managed a profit each year."

"A meager one at least." Scott shook his head. "Each year it gets less and less."

"Now, last year we had a gain."

"It was less than one percent. And this year we're going to be lucky if we get a profit. The forecasts the accountant gave us last week are not looking good."

"Ah, don't listen to him. He thinks we're going to be out of business in the next year or two and John thinks I'm going to be dead before I hit sixty-two!"

"And what does Virgil think?" Gordon grinned as he glanced at his second eldest brother.

"I think I'm going to stay out of this conversation." Virgil chuckled as he sipped on his cola.

"We're doing fine. You boys don't need to worry about us. Worry about yourselves for a change." Jeff turned a little to look at Gordon. "So, any idea what you'll be doing after you go back?"

Gordon's eyes widened as he leaned forward. "This is supposed to be top secret so don't say anything, but they've got this new hydro-foil ship they've been working on. Word is it's about seaworthy and they're currently looking for crew members. Since I'm currently not on assignment there's a good chance I could get picked."

"What would you be doing on the ship?"

"More research. And I could double and do shifts on the diving crew since I'm certified there as well."

"Sounds like a great opportunity." Jeff nodded and smiled at his son. "You and Alan are doing well for yourselves, I'm glad."

"Don't worry, we'll be more than capable to take care of all you old geezers in a few years." Alan laughed and ducked Virgil as he tried to punch him in the shoulder.

Jeff let out a yawn. "Well, I don't know about you boys but I'm ready to hit the hay."

"Speaking of, how did you get here Gordon?" Virgil downed the last of his drink and pulled out his wallet to pay off the tab.

"I brought the old truck."

"Alright, we have three possible drivers and three vehicles to get six people home."

"I am perfectly capable of driving my self home."

"Dad, you had three glasses of Whiskey, you're not driving." Virgil gave his father a glare and repeated it on his brother in case he was thinking of arguing as well.

"What about John? How does he usually get home?" Alan glanced over to the red head who was collecting some money and empty beer bottles across the room.

"I usually take Dad and Scott home and leave my car for him to use."

"No problem then!" Alan jumped to his feet and held out his hand. "I'll drive Dad home, and Scott and Virgil can go with Gordon in the truck. Then John can take Virgil's car like usual."

"You know, I can wait on John and take him home. I'm sure he wouldn't mind not having to drive for once."

"Sounds good." Virgil nodded. "We'll leave the truck for you guys then. I'm not letting you take my car."

"Why not? You never let me drive your car."

"Because you crashed and totaled my bicycle when you were in fourth grade. I can only imagine what you'd do to a car."

"Dude! That was over ten years ago!"

"And since you're hardly home, it's going to stay that way." Virgil patted his brother's shoulder before pulling his keys out of his pocket and jingling them. "Come on Scotty. Time to go home."

"I'm your brother, not a dog Virgil."

Virgil let out a whistle as if he were calling a dog. "Remind me of that when you're not drunk."

The room erupted in laughter as Scott followed his brother still complaining a little, but with a smile.

"You ready, Dad?" Alan was standing as well, his hand held out.

Jeff stood stiffly and stuck his hand in his pocket to fish out his keys, only his pocket was empty. "Shit, Scott's got them."

Alan dashed out of the door to stop his brothers from leaving. The only thing those still in the bar could hear was the loud blast of a horn and a minute later Alan was in the door again. "Got them! And I may have scratched Virgil's car jumping on the hood."

"Good luck getting him to lend you the car now!" Gordon cackled at his brother.

"Oh well, I'll just drive Dad's." Alan held up the keys. "Ready when you are!"

"Get the car started and I'll be there in a moment."

Alan was gone as Jeff strode over to John. "Here's for whoever Virgil didn't pay for."

"He got you all." John shook his head refusing the money.

"Fine, I'll pay Jim's tab."

"No can do, Jeff. Just go home and be with your boys. We'll be good and make sure John gets out on time."

"I tell ya, try and save money and everyone wants it, try and give it away and no one does." Jeff laughed as he reluctantly put the money back in his pocket. "I'll see you when you get home."

"Night, Dad." John waved to his father as he made his way out. "You sure you don't want to go with them, Gordon?"

"Nah, I don't mind waiting. I have the whole week with Alan and the rest of the month with the rest of you."

"I can't wait." John laughed as he shook his head and continued to collect money and clean up for the night.


	2. Home on the Range

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is home for the first time in at least a year, but they all have a secrets that needs to be told.

John and Gordon had gotten home at almost three in the morning. John had went straight to his room, but Gordon was still awake. He had spent most of his bus trip home sleeping so he figured he could just keep going—plus after being in the military he just couldn’t sleep past sunup. 

He spent some time watching a few shows—catching up on some things he’d missed in the past year—and reading. Eventually his stomach started to rumble so he made his way to the kitchen and glanced out of the windows. The sky was just lightening up, but not a sole was around. 

He started searching through the cupboards and with a quick decision he grabbed the truck keys that hung by the door and headed out to get some supplies. 

It took an hour to get to town, and an hour back. By the time he arrived back at the ranch there were two more trucks parked along the side of the house. 

He grabbed his groceries and quickly made his way back into the kitchen and started up the stove. 

This had been a regular thing back when they had still been in school, but without anyone else needing to get up of a morning he wasn’t surprised it had slipped. 

It wasn’t anything special, but he had a couple dozen eggs, bacon, and sausage cooked up in no time, each tray covered in foil. 

In the past the ranch hands would come and eat breakfast with them as they readied themselves for school, but they would only come if invited. Now there was no one left to invite them—their grandparents had retired to Arizona when Alan had left for collage leaving the house and ranch to all of them. But Gordon was going to make sure they were taken care of while he was there. 

He loaded the truck up with the food and a jug of orange juice and made his way back toward the barns. 

There had been five at one time—two for cows, two for horses, and one for supplies. The horse barns had held about a dozen horses at any point in time. Now, they were down to just one, and only half filled. The only other barn in use was the one for supplies, holding ample bags of oats and hay for the horses they had left. 

Gordon shut off the engine and jumped out of the cab. "Hey, Greg!" He waved his hand above his head to the white haired man in the entrance of the barn sweeping it out. 

"Well, I’ll be. Didn’t know you were in town!" He took off his ball cap and wiped his forehead on his arm. "You didn’t get kicked out now did ya?" 

"Not yet." Gordon laughed as he closed the distance between them. "I made you all some breakfast if you were interested. It’s in the truck." 

"Well, that depends." Greg eyed the truck in the distance. "Do you cook like your mom or your Grandma Tracy?" 

Gordon let out a whoop of laughter at that. "I cook like a sailor. Don’t worry, it’s edible." 

"Well, then I’d say it’s breakfast time. Sydney is out back with the grandkids. Your father said it was okay to bring them—something about free help." Greg winked. 

"Well, someone needs to ride the horses in the off season when there aren’t any tourists around." Gordon stepped into the barn as he waved off toward the truck. "I’ll let you set everything out. I hope I made enough, I’d heard rumor Keven produced some bottomless pits!" 

Gordon could hear Greg laughing as he made his way out the back of the barn and toward one of the smaller paddocks. 

There were two kids sitting on the fence and three more on the ground looking through the rungs at the occupants. In the paddock Sydney was holding the reins to one of the horses—a beige mare—and talking to another kid in the saddle. 

Gordon walked up and leaned on the fence, his eyes on the mare—though he could feel five sets of eyes on himself. "Your grandma sure is a good teacher."

The girl on the fence next to him squinted her eyes a little. "How would you know?" 

"She helped teach me how to ride when I was little." Gordon flashed a smile up at her. 

"Well, if that’s true, then you should know why Grandma puts so much stress on sitting facing the horses head." 

"I do." 

"And?" 

"Well, if it isn’t Backwards McGee!" 

There was a chorus of gasps as Gordon looked up to see Sydney walking the horse their way.

"You’re the kid who kept riding his horse backwards!" The girl next to him was now wide eyed. 

"Guilty as charged." 

"Wow, you must have been one stupid kid." 

"Mason! What have we said about talking that way?" 

"But Gran! He rode the horse backwards! Multiple times!" 

"It’s alright Sydney. I definitely wasn’t the brightest of kids, but it wasn’t that I didn’t know, I was just trying to be funny—well, every time except the first. That time I just got on wrong and the horse took off." Gordon smiled as he pushed himself off the rail. "I brought everyone some breakfast. Greg is getting it ready." 

"That sounds like an excellent idea. Kids, go find your grandpa while I take Peanut to the pasture." 

"Hey there Peanut!" Gordon had walked around the paddock and met Sydney by the entrance. He reached up and petted the horse along the nose. "How have you been doing girl?" 

"Oh, she’s just fine. Orbit is the one we have our eyes on." 

"What’s wrong with Orbit?" 

"Hurt his leg and he won’t let the doc get near him. Even John’s having a hard time with him. But he is an old horse." 

"What about my horse? Goldie? She’s the same age as Orbit." 

Sydney blinked and looked over at Gordon. "Didn’t your father tell you?" 

"He hasn’t been able to tell me anything. I’ve been on assignment for the past year." 

"That’s right. I’m sorry Gordon, but we had to put Goldie down last month. She got sick and was just not able to kick it. Your father decided it was best to just get it over with than to drag it out." 

"Oh." Gordon looked down and kicked at a rock. "She wasn’t even twenty yet." 

"It happens, Gordon. We’re not sure where she picked it up at. The doc was afraid it could be contagious so your father had to pay to get all the other horses checked, Goldie had to be confined to the other barn and this one had to be completely cleaned from top to bottom. We’re lucky none of the others caught whatever it was she had." 

Gordon nodded, but it hadn’t really helped. Goldie hadn’t been the one he had rode backwards on, but she had been the one he always rode once he had started riding properly. 

He held open the gate to the pasture as Sydney went to work taking off all the equipment and sending Peanut out to be with the others. 

When they got back to the truck Greg and the kids had already dug in barely leaving any for their grandmother. Gordon refused food, explaining he had left some back at the house for his dad and brothers. Once they had eaten every last crumb he took the empty dishes and headed back. 

Alan was sitting at the kitchen table when Gordon made his way back into the kitchen. There was an empty plate shoved off to the side, a cup of coffee in one hand, and his computer sitting in front of him. 

"You’re up early, figured you’d sleep in like the others." Gordon made his way to the breakfast he had saved for his family and made himself his own plate before sitting down across from Alan. 

"Nah, I promised my professor that I’d get this paper to him last night. He’s already e-mailed me five times wondering where it is." Alan flashed a grin at his brother. "He has the oddest hours, sleeps from five in the afternoon to two in the morning." 

"Sounds like John’s sort of hours. I was actually kind of surprised he went to bed and not out stargazing." Gordon smiled as he shoved some of the eggs into his mouth. 

"It was too cloudy. He’ll be up tonight, no work and it’s supposed to be clear. Say, did you make this? It’s pretty good. Definitely beats the food in the cafeteria at school." 

"Yeah, mess halls at WASP aren’t much better—if we left it to their protocol on cooking that is. Being on assignment for a year I’ve learned how to make pretty good food with limited resources." 

"Care to share your secret? I’d be a hero if I could improve breakfast a bit." 

"Of course!" Gordon took a few more bites in silence as Alan typed away at his computer. "Is this paper going to get published as well?" 

"Maybe, we’re still in the rough draft phase. Still need quite a bit of data to get it finished." 

"This would be two papers published, wouldn’t it? That’s quite a feat for a sophomore." 

There was a moment of silence as Alan stopped typing. "Actually, I’m a junior." 

Gordon stopped, his fork halfway to his mouth. "How?" 

"Online classes and summer school. I only came home for a couple of weeks last summer." 

Gordon finished his bite, his eyes still on his brother. "Why? There’s no reason to rush through school." 

Alan’s mouth curved down a little. "I have five. Dad and Scott have been working overtime to help pay for school. Virgil and John could get a full rides but Virgil has been playing at weddings to help bring in extra money instead of going to school and John’s been standing behind that bar every night serving drinks to the local drunks—and that includes Dad. And then there’s you. You wanted to swim in the Olympics, but there was no way we could afford the coach or the pool time so instead you went and joined Wasp. Everyone is putting their lives on hold for me." 

"Hey, you going to school wasn’t going to change the fact that we just don’t have the money for my swimming hobby. That had been decided long ago."

"But it’s not a hobby! You’re really good! You even said you broke records at WASP." 

"Alan, things we dream about doing sometimes just don’t happen. It’s not cause of anything we did or didn’t do, it just wasn’t in the cards for us for some reason." 

"I don’t believe that." 

"Well, look at Dad. Remember when he first started—well, you probably don’t, you were still pretty little—but Dad had a dream of running a rescue organization using the profits from the company. But the company just didn’t take off like he had hoped. He had wanted to use some of his connection in aerospace to get some business, but that Fischler guy got them first." 

"And half his stuff is crap. If he didn’t have Hackenbacker none of his stuff would even work." 

"Yeah, Dad missed out on hiring him too. See, it wasn’t anything he did, he tried, but he was just a moment late on everything." 

"But how does that effect you guys? Okay, I can see how Dad couldn’t afford your swimming lessons, but you could have swam in collage. You could have gotten a scholarship or something then the money wouldn’t have mattered." 

"Well, I did get offered scholarships, but collage just wasn’t for me. A WASP recruiter saw me swim and offered me something collages couldn’t. I could swim and learn on the job. I wouldn’t have to sit in a classroom listening to boring lectures and do stupid reports. So, that’s what I choose to do. It had nothing to do with Dad not having enough money." 

"Then what about the others? Scott got to follow his dream, but John and Virgil—" 

Gordon just shrugged. "You’re going to have to ask them about it. I’m in the same boat as you to be honest. They don’t really tell me much either. Plus the fact that I’ve been out of communication the past year doesn’t help." Gordon took another bite of his food and smiled over at his little brother. "Speaking of, tell me about what’s been happening with you? Surely it’s not all classes and co-authoring research papers." 

Alan looked down a little and smiled. "Well, no. I’ve been working part time too." 

"With everything else you have on your plate? Does Dad know?" 

Alan pushed his computer to the side and pulled out his phone. "Yeah, he found out when he called me one day and a plane was taking off. It’s not much, though, just a couple of weekends a month. But I don’t actually get paid in money, and that part Dad doesn’t know about." He flipped through his phone and then handed it over to Gordon. 

Gordon laid down his fork and took the phone. On it was a picture of Alan sitting in the cockpit of a fancy red plane. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t just any old plane he was sitting in, but a racing plane. "You know they’d kill you if they knew you were racing planes." 

"I know, which is why they don’t know, and you’re not going to tell them, right?" 

Gordon frowned a little and handed back the phone. "How often do you compete?" 

"You didn’t answer my question." 

Gordon sighed and chuckled. "Alright, I won’t tell. Unless you get into an accident, then they deserve to know." 

Alan eyed his brother a little and then smiled. "I’ve only been in one competition. Since I can’t practice much my coach doesn’t want to put me into any major ones yet." 

"And what is it exactly you do at the airport in exchange for these lessons?" 

I just help with dispatch sometimes and fuel up planes as well. It’s not very exciting and I have plenty of time to work on my school stuff." 

"Well, I guess I can’t argue too much against it. With as much as you’ve got on your plate you need some way of relaxing." Gordon smiled as he finished up his breakfast. He stood and grabbed his plate plus the one Alan had used and took them over to the sink. "Are you thinking of going professional with it after school?" 

"A little maybe. But I plan to be in school a bit longer. I’m hoping to get up to the professional ranks, get some sponsors and pull in enough money to pay for everything myself. I’ve talked to my coach and as long as I keep myself competitive—that is I don't have to always win— I could still make enough for rent, food, and books, plus the expenses of owning and racing itself." 

"Do you plan on telling them this at some point?" Gordon wasn’t looking at his brother, but down at the water as it filled the sink. 

"When I go professional, yeah. Then they won’t have to send me money anymore I’ll be able to support myself." 

Gordon nodded and grunted in acknowledgement. 

It as quiet for a bit as Alan went back to typing on his computer and Gordon worked on the dishes that had been gathered into the sink. He rinsed them off and stood them up in the drying rack before making his way back over to his brother. 

He stood behind him and wrapped his arm around his neck as if he were going to put him in a choke hold, only instead of tightening his grip he leaned down. "You do realize we’re supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around." 

Alan laughed a little and nodded. 

Gordon kissed him on his head and let go. "Just be careful okay." 

"Morning! You two are up early!" Gordon smiled as he turned to face Virgil. "Early? This is early for you?" 

"Well, you know, it’s Sunday and all." Virgil laughed a little. "Plus I’ve got a gig this afternoon. Small wedding nearby. Just going to take my guitar and play a few things." 

"Well, there’s some breakfast on the stove, might need to warm it up by now though." 

"Great, thanks Gordon." 

"My pleasure. I’m gonna go out for a run if anyone needs me." 

They waved goodbye to Gordon and Alan went back to his computer while Virgil served himself and sat down to eat. 

"So, what are you up to?" Virgil reached over and grabbed the random tablet that sat on the table, pulling up the day’s headlines. 

"Just organizing some data for one of my professors." 

There was a bit more clacking of keys and the occasional grunts from Virgil in reply to what he was reading. Virgil finally laid down the tablet and looked up at his littlest brother. 

"So, when were you going to tell the rest of us that you’re graduating next year?" 

The clacking of the keys stopped but Alan didn’t look up. "You heard?" 

"Yep. All of it." Virgil took another bite of his food his eyes still on Alan. "So, when were you going to tell us? Morning of graduation? Or when you ended up in the hospital?" 

"Are you mad?" 

"No. Just confused." He put his fork down and sighed. "Why did you think you had to hide it from us?" 

"I didn’t think you would approve. Especially the racing." Alan closed his computer with a snap and leaned back in his chair. "I know you guys are doing everything to help me out, so I thought if I could get though school faster then you guys could get back to your own lives." 

"I think Dad and Scott especially will have something to say about the racing, but why not the school stuff? I mean we knew you were taking some summer classes, but enough for you to completely skip a grade?" 

"Well, the research I’m helping with counts for some credits, so I’m able to skip out on some of the related classes. And I was going to tell you all when I was officially deemed a senior. Right now I’m still kinda on the border between sophomore and junior." Alan reached over and tapped on his computer. "Help with this paper will tip me into the junior range and then by the end of the semester I’ll have enough to be considered a senior." 

"But you’re still planning on going to graduate school?" 

"Absolutely. I still want to be an astronaut. And for awhile I thought about joining the air-force like Scott—I was still talking to a recruiter about it at Christmas. But then he quit and, well, if it didn’t suit him there was no way it would suit me." 

Virgil took in a deep breath and then let it out, straightening up. "Do you want to know the real reason Scott came home?" 

"Real—what are you talking about? He said it just wasn’t for him." 

"Right, and I think that is part of the truth, but I think it was this that really pushed him into actually quitting." 

Alan straightened up and finally looked his brother in the eyes. "What then?" 

"In February Dad had a heart attack. It wasn’t a bad one, but enough to scare us all." 

"What?!" Alan stood from his seat, his hands on the table. "Why didn’t anyone tell me?" 

"Like I said, it wasn’t a bad one. He wasn’t feeling good and Scott made him go to the hospital, so they had caught it really before anything happened. They kept an eye on him overnight and when the danger had passed he was sent home." 

"Am I the only one that doesn’t know?" 

Virgil shook his head. "Gordon doesn’t know either. I’m going to make sure Dad tells him though, or I will. I was going to have him tell you too, but now seemed like a good time." 

Alan flopped down in his chair and let out the breath he had been holding in. 

"Hey, we weren’t trying to hide it or anything—"

"You just didn’t want to distract me." 

"It was Scott’s call. John and I didn’t agree, but Dad did and well—you know how they are when they’ve made up their minds." 

"All too well." 

There was silence in the room again for a moment, until they both heard what sounded like someone missing a step on the stairs and stumbling down them and into the wall. The brothers smiled knowing just what that sound was. 

"Morning John!" Virgil couldn’t help but smirk as the red head stumbled into the kitchen. "You know we’ve lived here most of our lives, you’d think you’d stop forgetting about that last step." 

"That last step is an abomination. Those stairs are an abomination. Whoever built that staircase had no idea what they were doing. How could you calculate so wrong—" John didn’t acknowledge his brothers as he continued to mumble about the make of the stairs. He made his way to the food that was still laid out and fixed himself a bowl before sitting down at the table. 

Virgil and Alan remained quiet through his complaining—it wasn’t anything new by a long shot—and only once he was done did they continue. 

"So, did hell freeze over? It’s not even noon yet." Virgil smirked at the red head as he finished up his own plate of food. 

John yawned a little and spooned some more food into his mouth before answering. "I’ve got some work to do." 

"What kind of work? I thought you only worked the closing shift at the bar?" Alan’s eyebrow perked up at that—was there more his brothers weren’t telling him? 

John smiled a bit as he glanced at Alan. "Nah, this is different and actually I could probably use your help." 

"That sounds like an excellent plan. And while you’re helping John you can fill him in on what’s been going on with you." Virgil stood and took his plate to the sink. 

"Virgil!" 

"You need to tell everyone, and one by one is easier than all at once. Plus it’s good practice for when you tell Scott and Dad." 

"What’s going on?" John had his gaze on Alan, his meal forgotten.

"Nothing." Alan pouted. 

"Don’t worry, John. It’s alright. Alan’s just been keeping his own secrets is all. Maybe this is the week we all come clean." Virgil laid a hand on Alan’s shoulder. "Oh, and I told him about Dad." 

"Does Scott know?" 

Virgil huffed a little. "No, but I’ll tell him." 

"Let me know when so I can not be in the room when you do." 

Virgil just laughed in response. "I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours. See you space heads later." 

John watched Virgil leave and when he was out of sight he turned his gaze back to Alan. "So, what’s going on?" 

"Can we talk about it after I’ve finished organizing this data? I was supposed to have it done last night and my professor just emailed me again about it." 

"Alright, but when you’re done you’re coming with me and you’re going to spill." 

Alan tightened his lips and nodded, but kept his eyes on his computer. 

It took Alan a little over an hour to get his work finished, just as Scott appeared in the Kitchen. 

"Morning. We got anything for breakfast?" 

Alan had just closed his laptop and was letting out the sigh of completion but stopped and held the rest of it in. 

"Gordon made some stuff, I put the leftovers in the fridge." John had the tablet Virgil had used and had been reading quietly as he waited for Alan to finish his work but laid it down when he noticed Alan’s reaction to the eldest. 

"Perfect, I need something in my stomach after all that Whiskey last night." 

"You know you really should lay off them. You don’t want to get yourself in a situation where you won’t be able to fly anymore, you know." 

Scott shot his brother a glare. "I know my limits." 

John stood his ground "And I watch you get drunk every weekend." 

Alan froze as his brothers faced off, and as the tension seemed to rise he slipped out of his chair. "I’m going to go get dressed." 

"What’s up with him?" The tension was suddenly broken as Scott watched Alan disappear down the hall. 

John sighed and started looking through the article on the tablet again. "He hates it when we argue. Always has." 

Scott pinched his lips together and let out his breath through his nose. "I’ll go—"

John laid the tablet down on the table. "No. I will. I have something I want to talk to him about anyways." 

Scott turned to John his mouth open to say something but just shook his head. "Taking him to the library?" 

"Yep, figured he could help me out with a few things." 

"Like filling out some scholarships to MIT?" 

John mirrored his brother by pinching his lips for a moment ready to retort, but a bang from the hall distracted both of them. "One of these days, one of us is going to get hurt on those stairs." 

Scott rolled his eyes. "I think that would have happened by now." 

John shrugged his shoulder and grabbed Alan’s computer before making his way out of the kitchen.


	3. Clearer Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone was starting to come clean about what they've been keeping from the others, but there was one big secret yet to be told.

Gordon usually liked to run before breakfast, but having not slept yet, and since he was home, changing his schedule a little was probably a good thing. He had eaten light and planned to have a larger lunch later once the rest of the family had finally woken up. 

He stood for a bit outside the house looking around. There were all kinds of paths he could run along within the Ranch’s property, but Gordon didn’t feel like being that isolated at the moment—especially having just lived undersea with just two others for the past year—so he choose to run along the road toward town. 

It was about eight miles to town and Virgil had passed him when he was only a couple of miles down the road. Gordon wasn’t sure if he would go all the way to town he just wanted to stretch his muscles and breath in the fresh air for a bit. 

However, in the end, he had gotten so lost in his own thoughts as he ran that he soon found himself passing the gas station on the edge of town. He stopped and grabbed a drink at the water fountain, and talked to the clerk on duty—a young guy still in high school—before heading farther into town. 

He figured he’d swing by the community center to see if Virgil was playing yet—and to catch a ride home, but when he got there the parking lot was strangely empty. As he got up to the door he found it locked and all the lights off. 

There was a schedule posted on the wall next to the door and according to it, there were no scheduled events for that day. But Gordon could have sworn Virgil said the wedding was in town and that was the only place people had wedding receptions in town—the two churches were often used for the ceremonies but not near big enough for the receptions. The only other place it could be was at the nearby national park and while it was a nice day out, the past few days had been nothing but rain so he doubted they would have been able to have it there. 

However, there was really nowhere else to check so he pulled out his phone and looked up the parks website. It turned out the park was closed because of flooding, so no weddings there. 

Where could his brother have gone? 

Gordon walked down the street a little and almost missed his brother’s car. It was parked in front of one of the souvenir shops—Gordon glanced at the shop, but it looked empty, Sunday’s not really the busiest in the early tourist season.

There were a few other small shops along the road, and most were open—closing usually on a Monday or Tuesday. The government buildings were at one end of the road with a few of the motels and the gas station down at the other end. Gordon could have gone through all the shops looking for his brother, but the run had worn him out—mostly because he was also still running on zero sleep since the night before—so he perched himself on the hood of the car and waited. 

He was just about to doze off leaned back against the windshield when Virgil finally showed up. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as he walked down the street and almost passed his own car in the process. 

"Interesting case for a guitar?" Gordon smirked at his brother. 

Virgil had a tube with a strap slung over his shoulder and when he heard his brother’s voice his head popped up and he looked around almost as if he were getting his bearings. "What are you doing here?" 

Gordon shrugged and slid off the hood of the car. "I ended up running all the way here so I thought I’d catch a ride from you—but there doesn’t seem to be a wedding going on anywhere. What have you been up to?" 

"It’s none of your business." Virgil pushed past Gordon and to his car where he stored the tube in the trunk. 

"It is, or I tell Dad and Scott you’ve been lying to them." 

Virgil growled a little as he slammed the trunk. "Get in the car." 

Gordon jumped into the drivers seat and rolled down the window with a smirk. "I drive." 

"You can be so annoying at times." 

"Yep! Sure can!" Gordon just smiled at his brother. 

"Move over. You just ran eight miles on—have you even been to bed yet?"

"Nope." 

Virgil rolled his eyes. "I’ll drive, and I’ll talk." 

Gordon eyed him for a moment before moving over to the passenger seat. 

Virgil got in and just sat there for a moment before he sighed. "I’ve been studying." 

Gordon’s eyes widened as he turned in his seat to look at his brother. "You’re taking classes?" 

"No, just studying." Virgil shook his head and slouched a little in his seat. "Been going to the library and reading every book they have on engineering. After that I started looking up more complex things online." 

"So what was that you put in the trunk?" 

"Just something I’m messing with." 

"You do realize you’re either going to have to give me more than that or I’m going spend the next month breaking into your room and car till I find it myself." 

Virgil eyed Gordon out of the corner of his eye and then rolled them. "You know about Dad’s plan right?" 

"The rescue thing? Yeah, what about it?" 

Virgil shrugged a little. "I just thought I’d give a stab at designing a ship for it." 

"Oh really?" Gordon’s smile widened. "Tell me about it." 

"It’s nothing. Probably wouldn’t even fly, there are so many issues with it right now." 

"But you still created something. I’m sure there’s something awesome about that thing." 

Virgil rubbed his nose to hide the blush on his cheeks. "I did e-mail a professor at Denver to ask a few questions. He hasn’t gotten back to me yet—if he does." 

"Hey, don’t sound so disappointed. Keep doing your research, I’m sure you’ll figure a few things out." Gordon playfully punched his brother’s arm. "Though, why did you choose something from Dad’s old plans to work on?" 

Virgil shrugged a little. "After those miners got trapped, and then the explorers that almost died in the Arctic—well, I couldn’t help remembering him talking about how much good he’d do and all, so I thought I’d—" 

"You know Dad would probably be really impressed if you told him." 

"No. I don’t want him trying to force me off to school and put him into even more debt." 

Gordon didn’t argue, but leaned back in his own seat and nodded. "I wish there were something more we could do to help." 

"Don’t you dare think about quitting WASP and getting a job or anything stupid like that." 

Gordon laughed at that. "Nah, I’m not an idiot like my older brothers." He had to dodge the hand that snapped out to grab him, however in the small confines of the car, he had very little place to move and found himself in the nook of his brother’s elbow his hair being ruffled. 

Virgil let a smile spread on his face. "From one of your idiot brothers, I’m glad to hear it." 

"You know, I do get paid pretty well being in WASP. I’ve got quite a bit saved up if you do want to take some classes—" 

"No, Gordon. I appreciate it, but you keep your money." 

"Right, except the bit that I send to Alan occasionally." 

"What?!" 

"Hey, I still have quite a bit saved up. I’m not in debt like Dad and he uses it so he doesn’t have to ask Dad for as much. Same as with you and John." 

Virgil pinched his lips and shook his head. 

"Hey, as the only Tracy with his act together, no judging allowed." 

Virgil couldn’t help but sigh and chuckle. "I can’t argue with you there." 

"Alright, Virg. No offense, but I think it’s nappy time for me." Gordon yawned and stretched a little. "Take me home Jeeves." 

"Yes, sir." Virgil chuckled as he started the car and pulled out of the parking spot. 

—

Alan was sitting backwards in a chair in one of the library’s private study rooms. John was sitting at the one desk in the room with his laptop plugged in and in the middle of a video conference. 

They had slipped right into the room as soon as they entered paying no mind to anyone else in the building—and no idea they had missed seeing one of their other brothers doing his own thing as well. 

"Professor, would the images from last week work better? They were closer to the system by a few thousand light years."

"Hmm, you might be right, John. Go ahead and look at both sets of images and do those measurements I mentioned earlier. Once we have those we can start looking elsewhere for evidence." 

"I will get right to it." 

"Thank you, John." The man on the screen hesitated for a moment. "John—" 

"You know I can’t right now." 

The man sighed and smiled. "I have to try. Talk to you next week." 

The video disappeared and John started pulling up images of stars off of the World Space Agency’s website. 

"So, you do this every week?" Alan was leaning on the back of the chair watching his brother work. 

"Pretty much. I’ve had my name on five papers so far." 

"Five? And here I thought my two were impressive." Alan laughed a little. 

John turned toward his brother and frowned. "Yours are more impressive, Alan. Yours are co-authored, were done in two years, and you’re only nineteen. That is way more impressive." 

"But you’re not even in school."

"Which is why I can’t be listed as co-author like you." 

Alan suddenly sat up straight and stared at his brother. "You could go back couldn’t you? All that talk of money and how difficult it is to find scholarships—that’s all lies isn’t it? That’s what the professor was going to remind you of, wasn’t it?" 

John looked away, turned back to his computer and started typing on it. 

"John." 

"It’s complicated, Alan." 

"What’s so complicated about it? You want to go to school, you have the opportunity, but you’re not." 

"Have you thought about going with Dad and Scott to the office?" 

"Yeah, I was going to ask them later. And don’t change the topic." 

"I’m not. You’ll understand after you go." John sighed and glanced over at his little brother giving him a small sad smile. "Now, come on, I’ve got a lot of work to do and would love some help." 

Alan didn’t quite like the answer he was given, but it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see his brother again so he let it go—for now. "Alright. Let me get my computer set up and then I’ll look at some of these images for you." 

"Thanks. With your help, we might be able to get some star gazing in tonight." 

"Really!?" That was enough to push his previous worries to the back of his mind for the day. "I can’t even remember the last time we went star gazing together!" 

"I think it was over two years ago, just before you went off to college. You were too busy last summer." 

"Well, you know—" 

"Speaking of—wasn’t there something you were supposed to tell me? I’m sure Virgil will be upset if he finds out you didn’t." 

"He’s not my boss." 

"No, but you do care what he thinks." 

"Unfortunately I care what you all think, or else I would have told you earlier." 

John stopped his work and turned to face Alan. "Virgil seemed okay with it, why are you still so hesitant?" 

Alan shrugged a little. 

"Well, spill it already." 

"Well, if everything goes well, I’ll be graduating next year." 

"Graduating in two years?" John smiled, but it quickly disappeared. "That’s not like you Alan. You usually rush into the fun not to the end of it?" John’s mouth twitched in a small smile. "That’s more something I would do." 

Alan laughed a little. "Well, I did tell myself if you could do it, I could too." 

"But why?" 

"I’d think that was a bit obvious." 

John sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so." 

"Now for the other thing." 

"Other thing?" 

Alan pulled out his phone and handed it over with the same picture he had showndcccf Gordon earlier. He watched John’s face as a series of emotions flicked over it. 

John sighed and handed the phone back. "I see. I’m sure they’re going to worry about you, but as long as you’re not taking too many risks and follow all the safety regulations, I’m sure Dad and Scott will support you." 

"And what about you?" 

"Me?" 

"Yeah, you. I mean, I was hesitant to tell anyone, but I knew Gordon would understand the most. Virgil may have disapproved but he would have still encouraged me. But You, Dad, And Scott? If any of you don’t want me to do it—" 

John smiled a little. "I think you’re going to be the best out there." He reached over and ruffled Alan’s hair a little. "I know it’s hard, but you shouldn’t live your life based on what you think we think you should do." 

"I couldn’t stand anyone being mad at me—" 

"Alan, I can’t think of anything that would make any of us so mad at you that you’d have to worry about it. It’ll be fine." 

Alan nodded a little, still unsure, but he knew his brothers were right. He just needed to tell them. 

—

It was late afternoon when Alan and John returned home from the library. Everyone, minus Scott, was scattered around the living room watching TV or reading. Alan flopped onto the couch next to Gordon while John took his things to his room. 

"So, what have you and John been up to today?" Jeff was in his chair, tablet in hand with a pair of reading glasses on his nose. 

Alan looked at his father and a small frown pulled at his lips. He hadn’t really noticed it the night before, but his father was looking much older than he had at Christmas. He looked stressed, more wrinkles and his eyes looked tired. 

"Not much, just checking out some of the new footage from NASA and I had some work to finish today for one of my professors." Alan shrugged. Scott would be the only one that knew he had finished it before leaving for the library, but he wasn’t here to call him out on his lie. 

"Why don’t you tell Dad what you told me this morning?" 

Alan’s head snapped over to where Virgil was cleaning his guitar. 

"Oh? Something exciting happening at school?" 

"Ah, something like that?" Alan threw a small glare at his brother but was returned with a 'if you don’t tell him I will' look. Alan pasted on a smile and took in a deep breath. "Well, with the paper I’m working on, once that is finished and I finish with my current classes I’ll be in a position to graduate next year." 

"Well, well!" Jeff leaned forward in his chair a little. "I knew you were a smart one, but damn didn’t you just prove it. I can’t wait to see what you go on to do, it’s going to be something great. So, plans for after you graduate? Graduate school? Air-Force?" 

"Well, I had thought about the Air-Force, but I think I’m just going to go to Graduate School, get my masters. My professor already has plans for me I think. Plus there’s that astronaut program I mentioned last night." 

"Good, good. And scholarships? Have you been applying for them? Grad School isn’t cheap." 

"Oh yeah, of course. I’ve got a couple applications started and stuff. My professor thinks I’ll get some from the school I end up going to. Though of course he’s hoping I stay at Colorado." Alan grinned a little at that. 

Jeff nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Well, I’m sure you’ll still need a little bit for living on and stuff. I’ll have to see if we can’t spare any more money." 

"I could just get some loans—" 

"No." It was a bit of a bark and Alan slouched back into the couch a little. "School loans are traps to get students into a life-time of debt. We did that with Scott and we still don’t have it paid off even with the money he earned in the Air-Force." 

"Where is Scott?" Gordon didn’t mean to stop the conversation, but the mention of his brother reminded him of his absence. 

"He goes flying on Sundays. It’s his way of relaxing." John sat down next to Alan his nose already in a book. 

Gordon nodded and then gestured back to Alan. "Go on, tell Dad how you plan to pay for school." 

Jeff raised an eyebrow at his son, laying the tablet down on his knee. "I hope it’s nothing illegal." He smirked a little, but it didn’t last long, his worry for his youngest son’s future weighed on his shoulders. 

Alan cleared his throat a little. "I’ve been taking some flying lessons." 

"Flying lessons? You’ve been able to fly since you were twelve. Got your license the second you turned fourteen. You should be giving lessons, not taking them." 

"Well, they’re a special type of flying. For racing." Alan lowered his voice and looked down at his hands. 

The room was silent for a moment before their father sighed. "And? What does your instructor say?" 

"You’re not mad?" Alan’s eyes had widened a little as he looked at his father. 

Jeff sighed and shook his head. "Everyone here has a secret, though I have a feeling Virgil told you both my own." 

Virgil shrugged unapologetically when his father glanced at him. 

"I’m not happy about you racing planes, but—what does your instructor say?" 

"He said I have talent. Once summer comes I’ve agreed to not take any classes and just concentrate on flying. There’s a semi-professional event he wants me to go to. First place would pretty much pay for next year’s tuition."   
"You think you can get first place?" 

"I’m not sure, but even second and third would make a good dent on what you’d have to pay." Alan took in a breath and steeled himself. "I need to be able to take care of myself. You all—" He glanced around the room at his brothers—"need to be able to do what you want without worrying about me." 

"I’ve been telling them that for years. However, it is my job to worry about you." Jeff took in a deep breath and let it out as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "How are you paying for these lessons?" 

"That’s why I work at the airport on the weekends." 

"I see. And what if you get hurt?" 

Alan opened his mouth and then closed it. That had been something he worried about. He didn’t have the money to deal with the medical costs but he didn’t want to have to ask his father either. "I’ve been saving some money. Putting a little off to the side, just in case." He smiled at his father, his biggest one he could manage. It wasn’t a lie, but that little bit of savings wasn’t near enough to cover much. 

Jeff grunted a bit which reminded Alan of Virgil when he didn’t quite believe what he was being told. "We’ll still see if we can’t help out a bit. Until you’re able to get a few sponsors and bring in some actual money." 

"Dad—" 

"This is not a negotiation." 

"Yes, sir." Alan slumped down a little. The whole point was to become independent and this wasn’t quite working the way he had planned. 

"So, how long are you both staying?" The issue was settled as far as Jeff was concerned so he was happy to change the subject and make this little reunion a bit happier. 

"It’s spring break though I have to head back on Friday. I have a meeting with my professor I can’t miss." 

"Good, good. Maybe you’d like to come to work with Scott and me and see what we’re doing?" 

"Yeah, I was gonna ask about that." Alan perked up a little at that. He had been wanting to see how the company was doing anyways, but after his discussion with John earlier that day made him want to go even more. "I’ll be ready in the morning!" 

"How about you Gordon?" Jeff turned to his other son, knowing he had put his youngest under the spotlight long enough.

"Well, I actually have a month of leave before my next assignment. Thought I’d stay here for a bit, then maybe head for the coast and do some surfing and diving and stuff." 

"Tell us about your stint under the sea. I’m interested to hear how it went." 

"Well, I can’t give any details. WASP is super secretive as you know—but…" 

—

Alan made his way down early the next morning. He had packed a pair of slacks and a button down top to wear but still felt underdressed when he found his brother and father in full suit and tie sitting at the breakfast table. They were both looking at their tablets with coffee in hand. 

"You already eat breakfast?" Alan made his way to the refrigerator where the left overs from yesterday still sat. 

"Got all we need right here." Scott raised his mug and their father just chuckled. 

Alan peered at them over the edge of the refrigerator door. "You’re not eating breakfast? Virgil said you barely eat lunch and they have to force feed you dinner!" 

"Did it ever occur to you that John and Virgil might be exaggerating things a little?" 

Alan looked up for a second in thought. "No. I’m fixing you both breakfast." 

"We don’t have time—"

"You’re the bosses. Give your secretary a call and tell them you’re going to be late." 

"Alan, we have—" 

Alan slammed the refrigerator door and stormed over to Scott, grabbed his phone off the table and started looking through the contacts. 

"Alan, give that back." 

"Nope! Ah, here it is." Alan had put the phone on speaker and the ringing could be heard through the house as he ducked past his brother and into the hall. 

"Mr. Tracy, What can I do for you?" 

"Hey, Sally! This is Alan, the youngest." 

"Ah, Alan. I take it you stole your brother’s phone from the yelling in the background." 

Alan laughed as he ducked out the door and darted away from the house. "Yeah, So here’s the thing. I’m coming to work with them today, but I’m going to make them eat breakfast first. That okay with you?" 

"Finally, yes, please make them eat. They’re both so grouchy in the mornings. I’ll make the needed adjustments from my end." 

"Great! Thanks!" Alan skidded to a stop and turned around to find a red faced big brother huffing behind him. "Man, you need to work out some more Scotty."

"My phone." 

"There you go." Alan held out Scott’s phone with a smile on his face. "Now come on, breakfast time!" 

Alan made his way back into the kitchen and started to get the breakfast things out as his father’s phone started to beep. 

"I see our morning appointment has been moved." 

"Yep. Sally was more than happy to accommodate." 

"I can imagine." Jeff chuckled as he watched his eldest flop in the chair. "You really should work out more Scott." 

Scott just glared at his father.

"Alright, no more coffee till you get to the office, right now you get orange juice, eggs, bacon, and ooh—fresh berries!" Alan came out of the fridge loaded down with containers. 

"I think he’s trying to make us fat." Scott grumbled as he sipped on his coffee. 

"I’m trying to make sure you take care of yourselves." There was the ding of the microwave and he pulled out one of the plates, took it over and laid it in front of his father. "If you don’t do something I may start thinking that I need to quit school and come home to make sure you’re eating properly." 

"That’s not something to joke about, Alan." 

"Who said I was joking." 

"Alright you two, that’s enough." Their father took a bite of the food and hummed in approval. "He’s right though. We do need to take better care of ourselves, especially after this year." 

"He’s right." Alan set down another plate in front of his brother. "Last thing we need is you ending up like Dad." 

Scott looked down at his plate and sighed. "How did we end up getting lectured by Alan?" 

"That’s what happens when you’re not paying attention." Jeff took a drink of his orange juice. "It’s happened to me five times over now." 

"It’s no wonder the company’s—" 

Their father cleared his throat. "Scott—" 

"Right." Scott frowned a little as Alan joined them at the table. 

Alan eyed his brother and father as he ate, but didn’t push anything this early in the morning. He had all day to figure out what John was talking about. 

—

Once breakfast had been eaten they made their way to the other side of town to the local airport. It was a mid sized airport with two runways—the richer tourists preferring to fly in rather than drive. They made their way over to their personal hanger and their father parked the car along the outside. 

Usually they would have parked it inside, but normally there was only one plane in the hanger and not two. 

"How’s the old plane holding up?" Jeff had made his way over to the older prop as soon as they had opened the doors. He let his hand slide across the shiny surface almost petting the machine. 

"She’s doing pretty good. Starting to show her age though." Alan and Scott followed their father to the plane. 

"I imagine so. This is the plane Dad taught me how to fly in." 

"I taught all you buy how to fly in this baby." Jeff patted the plane a little before turning to Alan. "You haven’t had any trouble with her have you?" 

"I had to get some new parts for the engine and I’m going to have one of the guys at the airport I work at take a look at the front landing gear when I get back—It’s making some weird sounds, but still going up and down alright and it was fine when I landed." 

Jeff glanced back at the plane. "I’ll have Todd look at it while you’re here. You shouldn’t fly a plane with any issues. One small thing could mean the end." 

Alan clenched his jaw but decided not to argue. However he did glance at his brother and saw the look he was giving their dad. Something was definitely going on that they weren’t telling him about. 

With the discussion done about his plane, they boarded their father’s plane and Scott took the lead in taking off and heading to Salt Lake. 

It took them about an hour and a half to get to Salt Lake City and then half hour to get to their father’s office on the outskirts of the city. 

The office was a small two story building attached to the warehouse that took up most of the property it sat on. It was surrounded by other warehouses, factories, and the like. 

When they got out of the car Alan couldn’t help but noticed that there were only about a half dozen cars in the lot and that it was awfully quiet for a Monday morning. "Where is everyone?" 

"Hm?" Jeff looked up as he sorted through his keys. "Oh, they don’t start work for another half-hour or so." 

"Then why are they here already?" 

"Because they’re good workers." Scott laid his arm on Alan’s shoulder and led him through the door." 

The inside of the building was nice enough. Clean and kept looking nice even though the outside was definitely showing it’s age. There was the reception area just to the left, and a couple of chairs to the right of the door. 

Right next to the sitting area Alan could see the windows of the round conference room—though all the blinds had been lowered— and beyond that the three offices that occupied the main floor. 

"Morning, Sally." Jeff waived at the secretary/receptionist that sat in her own little office behind the counter. "Any messages?" 

"They’re on your desks." 

"Hey, Sally!" Alan plastered on a smile and waved to the woman. "Nice to finally meet ya. I’m Alan." 

"It is nice to finally meet you as well, Alan. I hear a lot about you from your father and brother." 

Alan leaned on the desk a little. "Wish I could say the same but they don’t say anything about this place at home." 

"Can’t help us keeping work and home a little separate do you?" Scott was leaning in the doorway to the office and Alan could see their father in the room. 

"I guess not." Alan shrugged.

"Are you planning to help out with the business after you graduate?" Sally glanced in Scott’s direction, a movement Alan didn’t miss. 

"Nah, going to graduate school and hoping to be an astronaut eventually." 

"Oh, going to follow in your father’s shoes and break some records are you?" 

"I’m definitely going to do my best!" 

"Hey, Alan, mind waiting out here for a second. Dad and I got to take care of something real quick." 

"Sure, no problem!" Alan flopped down into one of the two small chairs in the reception area, propped his feet up, and pulled out his phone. 

He waited a few minutes acting like he was busy on his phone and when he was sure his brother and father were busy he looked up at the secretary and smiled. "So. Just how bad is it here?" 

The secretary jumped a little and stared at Alan before shaking her head and sighing. "I’m sorry, Alan. I promised I wouldn’t say anything." She glanced over at the office door before leaning forward a little. "They do plan to take you on a tour of the warehouse—you’re smart, I’m sure you’ll realize it yourself." 

Alan’s smile had faded and he nodded, then returned to his phone to wait. 

It only took about ten minutes before Scott had come back out the door smiling at his brother. "So, Dad’s in a meeting at the moment, but he told me to take you on a small tour." 

Alan jumped to his feet. "Sweet! Where to first?" 

Scott chuckled a little at his brother’s enthusiasm. "Well, as you can tell this is the reception area. Conference room there. Dad and I share this office, that one is used by the engineer and the other by the accountant when they’re here." 

"What about upstairs? Who’s in those offices?" Alan tilted his head and then glanced up at the ceiling. 

"No one. It’s just storage. Dad had hoped to expand of course but—" Scott shrugged. 

"How come you share an office with Dad? It’s not like there’s a shortage." 

"We tried at first, but we were always calling each other and realized it was just easier if we were in the same room." Scott shrugged again and gestured for his brother to follow him. 

He led Alan through a doorway into a small hall. "Those are the stairs that lead to the second floor, and this is the lounge." He pointed up one dark space and then into another.

Alan squinted into the lounge. There was a table, and a small refrigerator, but no lights except the red dot from what he assumed was the coffeemaker. "Why is it so dark back here?" 

"Just conserving energy. You know how dad is." 

Alan did, but something just felt off about it. He followed his brother through the hall and out another door. They emerged into a much larger space—the main warehouse. 

"We’re at the end of the off season so this place is pretty empty. By June it’ll start getting full again." 

There were several wrapped pallets laying around the space, but they looked to be covered with a fine layer of dust. Alan followed his brother and noticed tapped off sections on the floor to divide it up, but the tape still looked rather new. 

"Steve! Cameron!" Scott was waving at a couple of men who were leaning against one of the pallets. 

"Morning." They chorused. 

"Alan, these are two of our workers. They’ve been with us the longest." 

"Ah, so this is the youngest." Steve held out his hand and shook Alan’s. "Heard a lot about you. How’s collage going?" 

"Oh, it’s great. How are things here?" 

There was a slight pause, but Steve kept his smile. "Oh, same as usual. We got a big shipment coming in today. Just a few of us here now cleaning up and getting ready. Most everyone else is coming in later to help when the stuff shows up." 

"We decided to give them flexible hours instead of assigning them shifts. We don’t require them to come in at any certain time unless we need them, then if we don’t get enough volunteers coming in, then we’ll require it but usually they’re eager to work." 

"It was nice meeting you. I’ll have to come back so I can see you all at work." Alan waved as he followed his brother across the floor. There were a few other workers there as well. Some of the tape on the floors closer to the docks was more messed up than the ones near the offices, but there still was not much in the warehouse itself. 

"We’re doing some inventory at the moment. Easier to do when you have the least amount of things to count. That’s what most of them are working on at the moment." 

Alan nodded as he looked around. This did not look like a warehouse that was succeeding. In fact he was starting to wonder how it had lasted this long. 

Scott led him back into the office, but their father was still in his meeting so Scott grabbed his computer and he and Alan went into the conference room to work. 

"Is there anything I can help with?" Alan sat down opposite his brother at the round table. 

Scott stared at his brother for a moment before nodding. "We just got word that one of NASA’s contracts with Fischler is about to expire. Dad wants to put in a proposal. If we can land it, things are going to change." Scott clicked a few keys and then nodded to Alan. "I just sent you the contract they had with Fischler. Use it as a guide and write up an introduction for me." 

"Yes, sir!" Alan saluted and pulled out his phone setting it up before him to use as a mini computer. 

He read through the contract, glancing up at his brother several times as he did. From what he had just seen, there was no way this little company could accommodate what Fischler’s had. What was in the warehouse alone, wouldn’t last NASA a day—let alone the types of machines they were wanting made. 

The engineer their father had on payroll wasn’t there—and from the look of the office when Alan had glanced in on his way to the bathroom made it look like he hadn’t been there for quite awhile. How in the world did their father think he could pull this off. 

He was starting to see what John had been talking about. He couldn’t say for sure without seeing the numbers, but Alan would have put some good money on the idea that they were on the verge of bankruptcy. And with Scott and their dad so close to being without a job—it’s no wonder Virgil and John had stuck around like they had. 

Alan didn’t express his thoughts, though, but worked on the introduction like his brother had asked. He knew blowing up in front of them would get him nowhere. Instead, he’d have to try and figure out another way to help.


	4. A Ray of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected meeting gives Alan some hope for his family's future.

Saying he was going to find a way to help was a lot easier than actually doing it. Alan had spent the week researching all he could about his father’s company, but the only way he could think of helping would be to go into racing full time. However, he was sure his father and brothers would not be happy with that decision. 

So he returned to school even more lost on what to do with his family than he had going into the vacation. He’d have plenty of time during the summer to think about it, and he doubted much would happen in the two months between now and then. 

In the meantime, however, he had returned to school a day early because of a meeting his professor had arranged before break had begun—in which Alan was sure he was just going to be giving him more work to do. 

"Alan, there you are. I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost on the way back from Utah." 

Alan nodded and smiled as he entered his professor’s office. He liked the man, but after his week off he had so much on his mind he was finding it hard to concentrate at the moment. 

The office his professor occupied was small and tidy—a wide desk in the middle with two chairs in front of it for guests and simply decorated with a large whiteboard one wall and the others quite bare. The window had blinds covering it, almost never open to let the sun in—the students joked that this particular professor was actually a vampire in disguise. 

"I’m sorry I’m late, Dr. Che, I ran into Dr. Rosemond on the way over." Alan started to go for his usual chair, but found that it was occupied. It startled him for a moment but he quickly swerved and went for the other chair. 

"That’s not a surprise, she can be quite the chatter box, and I know she’s been wanting to steal you from me. But that’s neither here nor there. I’d like to introduce you to my guest." He gestured to the occupant of the other chair. "Dr. Hackenbacker, this is the student I’ve been talking about—Alan Tracy." 

The man smiled and held out his hand. "I’ve heard quite a b-bit about you." 

Alan froze for a moment—anyone in engineering or aerospace knew of Dr. Hackenbacker. He was a genius and was responsible for some of the best technology around. "Sir." Alan couldn’t help the wide smile as he reached out and took the offered hand. "It’s an honor to meet you." 

"I have heard a lot about you. You show a lot of p-promise. Though your name sounds familiar—where have I heard it b-before?" 

"His father is Jeff Tracy. I’m sure you know of him." 

"Of course! Who doesn’t!" Dr. Hackenbacker beamed at Alan. "So you want to do much more than your father had. Not just Mars that is, but to the outer p-planets?" 

"Absolutely. I want to go farther than any man before." 

"From what Dr. Che has told me I think it very well could be p-possible." 

Alan couldn’t help but smile even wider. "Thank you, sir." 

Dr. Che cleared his throat. "I’ve asked Dr. Hackenbacker here to see if he’d be able to make some equipment for my research and since you’re very much involved with said research I thought you might have some ideas as well." 

Alan’s smile faded a bit. "But I thought you worked at Fischler Technologies. From what I heard he has you so wrapped up in red tape he owns even your decision on what to have for breakfast." Alan laughed a little, but it died down when he noticed the other two hadn’t joined him. "Ah, sorry. I shouldn’t have—" 

"It’s alright. I’m the one that signed his c-contract." Dr. Hackenbacker sighed. "I was b-blind to all the freedom I thought he was g-giving me. A brand new laboratory, as many assistance as I wanted, no b-budget. But, the one good thing is that the contract is expiring this year. He’s already b-been on me about signing a new one—much like the last one, unfortunately—and he is not happy that I’ve shown no interest in continuing with him." 

"That’s awesome!" Alan blushed a little when he realized just how loud he had said that. "Well, I mean, you can do what you want now, right? What do you want to do?"  
"That’s what I’m trying to d-decide. Dr. Che was hoping I’d come work for the university—though the pay would be quite a b-bit lower and I’d be quite a b-bit more limited in what I could do—it is a very tempting offer. I’d b-be able to work with young people like you who have wonderful new ideas." 

"Wow, for you to take such a bit pay cut, Fischler must have been real bad." 

"Fischler had some interesting ideas, but never really helped in turning that idea into a reality. That was solely my j-job. It would be nice to have someone else help with the ideas." 

"That would be really awesome if you came here and worked. But like you said, the downside would be the control the university would have on your inventions. You make something they don’t like and it’s in the trash, or you make something they love and they get all the money." 

"Hey, Alan, you’re supposed to be helping me convince him to come to the university, not the other way around." The professor laughed and shook his head. "This kid always says his opinion whether you want him to or not. Guess that’s what happens when you have four brothers." 

"Yeah, if you wait for your turn you’re never going to get a word in." Alan laughed as well and Dr. Hackenbacker smiled. 

"Dr. Che." It was his secretary in the doorway. "The dean is asking for you. She says she needs to talk to you now." 

Dr. Che nodded his head at his secretary and sighed. "I think I know what this is about. Alan could you keep our guest company until I can get back?" 

"Yes. Of course!" Alan was still smiling and nodded as his professor stood from his desk. 

"Well, then, Dr. Hackenbacker, if you’ll excuse me." 

Alan waited until his professor was out of the room and then looked back at the man next to him. The excitement of meeting someone as famous as him had thrown Alan for a loop, but if anything it had him thinking even more about his family. 

"I don’t know if you remember but my dad had offered you a position back then—when you had signed that contract with Fischler. At least that’s what I was told. I really never knew much about what was going on with his company back then." 

"He d-did. It was one of the lower offers I got but still very tempting. I agreed with a lot of what your father wanted to achieve. I’m quite saddened that he wasn’t able to accomplish what he had told me." 

"I guess he figured he’d be able to get at least some of those government contracts that Fischler monopolized. From what my brothers told me, it really hit him hard when he didn’t get any. Dad apparently didn’t really have much of a chance after you signed on with him." 

"Yes, I heard he had p-pulled every favor he could, but Fischler had the means to offer very good d-deals that the government couldn’t refuse." 

Alan sighed. He didn’t know why he had brought it up. Yeah, it would be great if Dr. Hackenbacker could help his dad get out of debt, but there was no way he’d want to work for a company that was going bankrupt. Plus he doubted his father would even entertain the idea at this point, he was just too stubborn. "So, what other things are you looking at—other than working at a university that is." 

"I thought about setting up my own laboratory. A p-private one where I can do what I want—completely what I want." The engineer eyed Alan for a moment. "B-but even that has risks. I have ideas that I d-don’t want just anyone to have. D-defiantly not Fischler and p-probably not even this school. They’re amazing ideas that b-break the b-bounds of what we are able to d-do now. B-but I’m worried about who could g-get their hands on those ideas, let alone the actual machines I’d create with them. In the wrong hands it could cause a lot of d-destruction and even d-death to innocent people." 

"Are you talking about that shadow the GDF have been after the past ten years or so? All the new technology he’s been stealing and using to steal other things." Alan frowned a little. Nobody had been safe from that guy and there didn’t look to be anything the GDF could do about it anytime soon. 

"Yes, he d-does come to mind. But I d-don’t want to fight him, I want to help p-people—I g-guess I’m not really explaining myself well, or maybe you never knew about it either." 

Alan frowned a little at the man across from him. 

"When I met with your father all those years ago, he t-told me about a d-dream he had. He wanted to create an organization that would help p-people. P-people who would otherwise be t-told that there was nothing anyone could d-do. When equipment was not available or even existed to help them. Or when those that could help were too far away. He said he wanted to—"

"It was because of Mom, wasn’t it? Because she couldn’t be saved. They knew the plane had gone down. They knew where. But there wasn’t anyone that could get to it because of the snow, and the—" Alan clenched his jaw a little unable to finish his sentence, his hands in fists on his legs.

He didn’t remember his mom—not really at least. What images that he could bring to mind, he wasn’t sure if they were memories or dreams. Her face he’d seen in photos, stories he’d heard from his brothers, but he wasn’t sure if any of the memories were his own. 

He had heard the story of her accident a few times and even though it didn’t hurt as much for him as it did the rest of the family, it did make him mad. She could have been saved if only—

"Yes. I believe that was what drove your father’s dream. But since you didn’t know about it, I take it he’s given up on it." 

Alan quickly rubbed at his eyes. "The company is barely holding on. Scott keeps talking about taking it over once Dad retires, but I’m not even sure it’ll still be around then. They’re both killing themselves trying to keep it alive." 

"Yes, I have already looked in on the company myself." 

It was silent for a moment. Alan wasn’t sure what else to say, the conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected. 

The engineer seemed to have noticed and cleared his throat. "Tell me about your b-brothers." 

"My brothers?" 

"Yes, what are they d-doing?" 

"Well, like I said, Scott’s helping dad with the company. He left the Air Force at the beginning of the year—he was one of the best, but he said he wasn’t happy." 

"Has he b-been keeping up on his flying?" 

"Yeah, he takes one of the old planes up every Sunday, and I guess he’s even been able to use some of his connections to take a jet up a couple of times. " 

"And your other b-brothers?" 

"Well, Virgil’s doing the wedding circuit. He plays piano and guitar. Does painting commissions when he can, does face painting at the fair in the summers—" 

"He didn’t g-go to school?" 

"He wanted to and I’m not really told a lot of the reasons thing are as they are, but Dad won’t let us take out loans so I was just told it was too expensive. He did the loan thing for Scott when he went to the academy, but they’re still paying on that." 

"And the other two?" 

"John had been accepted to MIT, but again—" Alan just shrugged. "He works as a bartender in the local bar five nights a week. The other two he spends at the library doing research. Not going to school hasn’t stopped his want to learn." Alan couldn’t help but smile at what he had learned about his brother that week. "He’s helped publish a couple of papers with a professor from MIT and they’re working on another. Luckily all the images NASA captures are open to the public. I actually helped him when I was home this past week. Right now he’s helping with a computer program that will identify stellar phenomenon. He’s doing a lot of the math by hand to make sure the program is doing it right and then altering it when it’s wrong."  
"But without a d-degree he’s not g-going to get the recognition he d-deserves." 

"No." Alan’s smile disappeared. "And with the situation with Dad’s company he doesn’t want to leave. Same with Virgil I’m assuming." 

"So they’re staying b-behind to help out?"

"Yeah, the little profit the company makes Dad gives to the employees. So everyone else works to make ends meet." 

"And your last b-brother?" 

"He’s in WASP. Just spent a year at the bottom of the ocean doing research. He’s also crushed some of the swimming and diving records there." 

Dr. Hackenbacker smiled at that. "Sounds like, even with the setbacks, they’re still in p-prime form. Do you think your father is still interested in an engineer?" 

Alan’s eyes widened a bit. "Wha—but, why? I mean there’s no way he could afford you and they said they have an engineer, but—" 

"You’re father currently does not employ an engineer, that much I am certain of."

"They—" Alan pinched his lips. "That explains the dust in the office." Alan took in a deep breath and looked back up at the engineer. "But I’m sure they couldn’t afford you. And Dad—" 

"Well, the one good thing about Fischler was that he did pay me well. I’m not in need of money at the moment. I’m open to options. Here—" Dr. Hackenbacker pulled out a business card from his front pocket and flipped it over. He grabbed a pen off of Dr. Che’s desk and wrote on it before handing it over. "This is my personal number. See if you can’t convince your father to contact me. I’d love to talk to him again." 

Alan took the card and stared at it. However the time for questions had ended as he heard his professor approach. He quickly stored the card in his pocket to ponder on later.

When his professor returned Dr. Hackenbacker had started talking like they had spent the entire time discussing his professors research. This had caught Alan off guard, but he recovered quickly and played along. 

The meeting continued and his professor seemed happy with the results. But Alan couldn’t help but glance over at the Engineer whenever he wasn’t being talked to—his mind replaying the conversation they had just had. 

As soon as he was dismissed from the meeting he had his phone out ready to call his father, to convince him to give the engineer a call, but hesitated. Would his father even give the idea a thought? Alan shook his head, no, he didn’t think he would. 

He scrolled through his contacts wondering who he should call, cause this was definitely something he couldn’t keep to himself. He stopped on Scott’s name—surely he’d know about his father’s dream and what the engineer could do for the company—but there was the possibility he’d dismiss it just like their father might. No, it was too risky. 

He scrolled up to Virgil, he had wanted to be an engineer himself. Maybe some desire to meet Dr. Hackenbacker would get him on Alan’s side. John too was a possibility—his work with the professor from MIT could help them out as well. 

However something was stopping him from calling any of his brothers. They all seemed so set that things were the way they were and they just needed to stay and help. 

Alan ended up walking all the way back to his dorm having not called anyone and now he sat wondering what to do. He sat at his desk and flipped the business card over from front to back. 

Dr. Hiram Hackenbacker of Fischler Industries—Engineer on one side and then the handwritten number on the other.

The sun was setting outside of his window, he hadn’t known just how much time had passed—zoned out as he was—when his phone started ringing. He jumped and looked at the screen to see Gordon’s name upon it. 

For some reason it hadn’t occurred to him to talk to Gordon about what had just happened but maybe that was just the person he did need to talk to. 

Gordon was silent as Alan told him about his meeting with Dr. Hackenbacker. So quiet that when Alan was finally finished he worried that the connection had been lost. 

"No, no, I’m here." Gordon’s voice was small, unusual for him. "I know about Dad’s plans. Well, not in detail or anything, but I remember him telling us about them. And now this engineer wants to help him? Kinda late don’t you think?" 

"You can’t blame him. There was no way he could turn down Fischler’s offer. He said it was pretty much between him and Dad and he ultimately went with Fischler cause he thought he’d have more freedom. He just didn’t look at the fine print and regrets it." 

"But if he had gone with Dad things wouldn’t be like they are. Sounds like a lot of this is his fault." 

"Gordon, I’m not blaming him. He made his decision and its one either of us would have probably made if we were in his place." 

Gordon grunted a little, not quite in agreement. "Alright. So why are you telling me about all this?" 

"He gave me his number. He wants me to give it to Dad." 

"Why haven’t you?" 

"I don’t know—I just feel like he’d be all like I can’t afford him, it wouldn’t be fair to him and stuff." 

"Well, I think your first task if you want to be able to pitch this to him properly is to do your research." 

"I have been researching about the company—" 

"No, about Dad’s dream. Ask Virgil about it. He knows. He’s even been working on designing a plane for it." 

"What? Why?" 

"He just said he wanted to try something. Personally I think it looks pretty cool, though he says there are a tons of problems with it. I took some pictures of it when he was off doing one of his wedding gigs. Wanna see?" 

"Yeah!" 

"Okay—there, sent." 

Alan picked up the phone that had just been laying on the desk and opened the screen. He tapped on his brother’s message and it brought up the picture. "That—are you sure that’s a plane?" 

"Yeah, asked him that myself. I thought maybe it was going to be a cargo ship of some sort." 

"But it’s so big, it looks bigger than most of the GDF transport ships." 

"Yeah. He said he’s still figuring out how to power and fly it, but he’s sure that it can fly." 

"I bet Dr. Hackenbacker could do it." Alan was staring at the weird plane in the picture. 

"Well, you need to convince Dad to call him first don’t you?" 

"But what if we convinced Dr. Hackenbacker that the dream is not over, that he could help. Then we could just take him to Dad personally and he’d have no reason to say no." 

"So, let me get this straight. You want to contact a hugely famous and busy engineer tell him about this plane our brother has drawn up—a brother who has no formal engineering education—and you think that would convince him to just drop everything and move to some small town in Utah for free?"

"It’s worth a try, don’t you think? I mean it was him that suggested that Dad call him." 

"Well, if you plan to go through it, good luck." 

"Hey, Gordon?" 

"Yeah?"

"Why were you calling me anyways?" 

"Huh? Oh, I just wanted to tell you that I got selected to be one of the trainee biologists on that new hydrofoil WASP built. It’s supposed to be one the fastest hydrofoil out there and has been kept very hush hush, but they just did an announcement today and listed who was all going to be involved." 

"Oh wow, congrats!" Alan smiled, but it faded a little. "Does that mean you’ll be out of contact again?"

"Nah, that’s the best thing. Cause of the speed of this thing we can reach the middle of the pacific for research and patrol and be back within a month and since we’re above water normal communications can be received—just not allowed to answer my phone while I’m on duty of course, and can’t discuss anything we’re doing, but that’s pretty much normal around here." 

Alan couldn’t help but laugh. "Yeah, and I’m impressed you’ve been able to keep everything you do so secret. Usually you’re the one that blabs first." 

"I know right? But I guess they put the fear into me big time." Gordon laughed over the phone. "Well, it’s getting late. You better head to bed, if you can sleep that is." 

"Yeah, we’ll see about that." Alan was smiling as he hung up the phone. A plan was starting to form in his head and he had a bit of research to do before calling the number on the back of the business card. 

For now, he carefully placed it in his wallet, a place he was sure it would be safe, changed his clothes and laid down in his bed. He laid there awake for some time, but eventually fell asleep to dreams of what the future could be fresh in his mind.


	5. Storm Clouds on the Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan's working hard to help his family but an announcement from his father makes the situation even more dire.

Alan had little time to think of his family’s situation or of the engineer’s offer. Once Spring Break was over he had papers due, research to help with, and then a handful of finals to take. 

Once that was all done, he was free for the summer—well, mostly. He was still doing research with his professor—the paper was getting close to the peer reviewing stage but still needed a bit of work—he had one small online class he was taking that summer that would help him to graduate early, and of course he had his flying lessons and racing to occupy his time. 

With the little extra money Gordon was giving him he had decided to go in on an apartment with some friends for the next year and a half—splitting the rent between three people meant that it was pretty cheap and Alan was still able to save some money on the side. 

Plus with the additional free time he was able to work more hours at the airport and get a little bit of money out of it—though that mostly went back into his flying and rent. 

His work at the airport was simple, he had to man the control booth and guide planes in and out of the airfield. The weekends were fairly busy, but the weekdays were slow so he would spend his time on his computer searching for as much information about his father’s company as he could. 

However it didn’t take Alan long to hit a brick wall in his work. So by the end of June he finally turned to his second eldest brother for more information. 

"Hey, Alan, unusual to hear from you in the middle of the day." 

"I’m at work and it’s raining so doubt anyone’s going to want to go flying, but someone has to be here so here I am." Alan chuckled a little. He actually didn’t mind the rainy days. It allowed him some peace and quiet to work on his little project. 

"Well, you caught me on a good day. Wednesdays seem to be the least popular for weddings for some reason." Virgil chuckled a little. "So what can I do for my little brother?" 

"Tell me about Dad’s dream." 

"Dad’s dream?" 

"Yeah, the rescue organization." 

"And just where did you hear about that?" 

"Gordon." 

There was a sigh and a slight chuckle from the other end of the line. "I should have guessed. Why do you want to know? It’s a faded dream by this point." 

"What a kid can’t be curious about his father?" 

"Depends on what the curiosity leads to." There was a pause and a huff. "I suppose Gordon told you about the plane I’m designing too." 

"Yeah." 

"But that’s not all you want to know about." 

"I mean, yeah I want to see it, but—"

"You want to know more." 

"Yeah. It sounds like a cool idea." 

There was another pause and Alan held his breath a little. "What’s going on?" 

"What? Nothing! What are you talking about?" 

"Gordon knows the basics of Dad’s dream just as much as I do. So why do you want to know more?" 

Alan chuckled and sighed a little. He probably should have known better than try and pull a fast one on Virgil. Scott would have probably been excited about his interests and just told him everything, but Virgil was too good at seeing through his brothers. "Well, here’s the thing. Remember that meeting I had with my professor after Spring Break?" 

"Yeah. You said it was probably just about the paper you’re helping him with." 

"Well, that’s what I thought, but it wasn’t. He actually wanted me to help lure in an engineer to help design some equipment he’d use to prove one of his theories." 

"That sounds neat, but what does this have to do with Dad’s dream?" 

"It was Dr. Hackenbacker." 

There was a choking sound from the other end of the line, and then some harsh coughing. 

"Virgil? You okay? Virgil?" 

There was a bit more coughing and then his brother was back with a raspy voice. "Sorry—" A few more coughs and clearing of his throat— "Water went down the wrong pipe—but, did you say Dr. Hackenbacker? As in The Dr. Hiram Hackenbacker?" 

Alan couldn’t help but laugh at his brother. "Yep, the one and only. Dad was of course mentioned when my professor introduced me, and then I asked him if he remembered Dad since he had offered him a job and all." 

"And did he?" 

"Yeah. Said his decision was actually between Dad and Fischler. The money was what did it in the end—though he regrets it now." 

"Well, Dad barely had the money for him then and he definitely doesn’t have the money now. So what are you planning?" 

"Well, he gave me his card and told me to give it to Dad. He said he’s still interested in Dad’s dream."

"But you haven’t given it to him." 

"I’m sure you can figure out why." 

"Yeah. He would dismiss it for sure. Even Scott probably wouldn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up." Virgil sighed. "So, what now?" 

"I’m going to make a presentation to him. I’ve collected all I can about the company online. I wish I could get a hold of some financial records, but I’d probably have to hack into the company’s files to get that." 

"John’ll do it." 

"What?" 

"John’ll do it. He wants to help, and thinks that staying behind that bar is the only thing he can do to help—" 

"Just like you and weddings." 

There was a deep breath of air on the line. "He has the skills and would be more than happy to help. I’m honestly not sure why you called me and not him if that is your problem. He knows just as much about the organization as I do." 

"Well, I was taking a break from that side of things and like I said, I wanted to know more about Dad’s dream. All I know is that it was a rescue organization. And since you were designing a plane for it—" 

"Hold on." There was some muffled talking on the other end, then some pounding as if Virgil was stomping up the stairs. Finally the shutting of a door before Virgil was back. "Scott’s got a cold and Dad made him stay home, of course that’s not stopping him from working. He’s been holed up in the study most of the day. I told him I was talking to a potential client and came to my room." 

Alan smiled at the news. If Virgil was hiding their conversation from Scott, that meant that he might have just hooked his interest enough to get him on his side. "So, this rescue organization." 

There was an amused chuckle and then a sigh. "There really isn’t much to tell, it was still in the early planning stages when he had to drop the whole idea." 

"I still want to know." 

"Alright. Sit tight." Alan could hear the small groan as Virgil sat down on his old bed. "Basically Dad wanted to create a some machine or machines that could be taken anywhere in the world and rescue those that needed it. He really didn’t have any specifics past that. I figured with all those different types of machines he’d probably need some sort of—"

"Cargo plane. That’s what you are designing! But how is it supposed to get lift with those small wings? And it looked like your projected airspeed ratio was skewed as well—" 

"How did you—Gordon doesn’t know enough about planes to tell you that."

"He showed me a picture of it." 

"That brat, can’t keep anything secret. Amazes me how he’s still in WASP." 

"I know right!" Alan laughed along with his brother. "What else?" 

"Well, he wanted the organization to be free to all, he had hoped that his business would help with that. He dreamed of flying around the word as fast as light and saving anyone who needed to be saved." 

"Man, he really had it thought out didn’t he?" 

"For the most part yeah." 

"Who was going to work in this organization?" 

"Whoever he could get I imagine. Though I’d be surprised if he’d deny any of us a job. Of course if his plans had gone the way he hoped we’d all have full rides to school by this point." 

It was quiet on the line as Alan began to imagine what the organization would have been like. He almost forgot about his brother until he had cleared his throat. 

"Come back down to Earth, Alan." 

"Ah, sorry." Alan laughed a little. "Can’t help dreaming about it a little." 

"Yeah, but it’s nothing now. I don’t know what you hope to accomplish with your little presentation." 

"Dr. Hackenbacker was still interested in it and he has money. Fischler paid him well. If we could get him to back the company and the organization—plus with his genius, I think it could still happen." 

"Hmm. I don’t know—" 

"It’s worth a try, isn’t it?" 

"I don’t want to hear that you’ve been bugging him about it."

"I’ll ask him once. If he says no, then he says no. End of discussion." 

Virgil was pinching his lips in thought. The idea was intriguing, but he was all too familiar with their family’s luck that he didn’t want to grow too hopeful about it. But, if he didn’t support Alan in this, their future was pretty much set in stone at this point. "Alright. If you need any help, let me know. I’ll see what I can do." 

"So, can I get a copy of your schematics for your plane?" 

"What? Why do you want those?" 

"So I can show him of course!" 

"You said Gordon sent you a pic." 

"Yeah, but that was just a quick snap while it was in the trunk of your car. It would look better if I had a copy of the actually thing." 

There was a bit of a grumble. "It’s not even worth showing him. I’m sure he’s just going to laugh at it. You said so yourself, it can’t even fly." 

"Virg, you’re a genius! I’m sure he’ll be impressed by it." 

"I don’t know…" Vigil watched his little brother give him those dangerous puppy eyes Alan had perfected through out the years. "Alright. Just do me one favor." 

"What’s that?" 

"Don’t tell me what he says about it. I’d rather just keep working on it in peace than know that it’s a fools errand." 

"No way am I promising that, bro. I will talk to you later—just not sure when." 

"Don’t forget to give John a call. I think I hear him shuffling around in his bedroom." 

"Sweet. Thanks!" Alan hung up his phone and bounced in his seat a little. It was more information than he had hoped for. He didn’t want his luck to run out so he quickly clicked on John’s photo to try and catch him before he hit the shower.

The phone was answered almost immediately with a yawn. "Hello?" 

"John! You awake?" 

"Barely. What do you need?" 

"Where are you at?" 

"In my room? Is this a game of twenty questions or something?" 

"No, I need to ask you a favor." 

"Anything for you. What do you need?" 

"I want you to hack into Dad’s or Scott’s computer and get a copy of the financial records for the company." 

"Okay—why?" 

"It’s a long story, I just got off the phone with Virgil, he can give you the details, but will you do it?" 

"I need some sort of reason, Alan." 

"I may be able to help Dad—heck I may be able to help you all. But I need those records." 

"Why don’t you just ask—"

"You know full well they won’t tell me. Even when I went with them last time I was home they did all they could to keep the actual situation quiet." 

"But you said you understood what was going on." 

"Only cause Sally kept hinting at things and the way the warehouse looked. They showed me nothing in the way of actual numbers." 

"Alright. I’ll see what I can do." 

"Thanks, John! I owe you one!"

"Yes you do. I’ll come collecting when you least expect it." 

Alan just laughed. "Hey, I’m more than willing to help you look at stars any day." 

"I’ll get you the info as soon as I can get it. Just don’t let whatever this is distract you while you’re flying." 

"No worries! And Thanks again John!"

There wasn’t much more Alan could do until his brothers sent him the information he had requested. He did his best to work on his one class—he tended to work as far ahead as he could—and spent more time flying than he had since school had been over. 

His coach questioned his sudden increase in practice, but didn’t deter him any—as far as he was concerned the more practice the better. 

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that Alan received the scan of Virgil’s plane as well as a message from John with copies of the the company’s financial records included. All it took was one glance at them and Alan had John on the phone within a minute. 

"John, talk to me."

"About what?" 

"These files, they can’t be right." 

"Other than being about a week old they are perfectly accurate. Not what you were expecting?" 

"I mean, I knew they were doing bad but—How is the company still functioning?" 

"Because Dad and Scott are really good businessmen. They’re just battling bad luck." 

Alan paused for a moment as he looked through the files. "You knew about all this didn’t you? This isn’t the first time you’ve seen these files."

"No, I got curious long before now." 

Alan couldn’t help the small chuckle. "No wonder Virgil said you’d do it for me." 

"Now you know why we’re sticking around. One bad deal and not only is the company going bankrupt but Dad and Scott too." 

"Even with all Scott’s savings from the Air Force?" 

"What savings? He paid off his loans from school and put everything else into the company to keep it afloat when Dad had his heart attack. He had a deal that didn’t go through just after the first of the year. We think it was that that sent him overboard." 

"Oh—" Alan was still staring at the document but not really taking anything more in at the moment. "John, something’s been bothering me about Scott." 

"Oh? What’s that?" 

"He quit the Air Force just after Dad’s heart attack right? The timing of that seems too perfect. He said he just didn’t sign on to extend his contract with them, but after school he was supposed to stay on for four years. That wouldn’t have ended until like August. How was he able to get out half a year early?" 

"Family leave. He’s still technically in until his official release in August. But with Dad’s situation they’re giving him family leave until then." 

"Is he still getting paid?" 

"Not his full amount, but yes. That’s the only reason the company is still functioning at the moment. Every penny is going into keeping it afloat." 

"Then you and Virgil are the ones paying for the home stuff?" 

"Groceries, utilities—stuff like that you mean? Yeah, that’s on me and Virgil. We’re lucky the house is paid off. Not sure we’d be able to do it then." 

"Why don’t you guys tell me this stuff?" Alan was growing red with anger at his family. "I could have taken a break from school, gotten a cheaper apartment, something!" 

"That’s why we didn’t tell you." John was still calm, patient as always. "We want you to have a life Alan. You and Gordon both." 

"But it’s not fair to you guys." 

"Maybe not, but we’d rather be here and see you two succeed rather than see you fall into the same situation as us." 

Alan did not reply to his brother. His jaw was clenched and he had to rub at his eyes to keep John from seeing the start of tears. It wasn’t fair to his brothers. It wasn’t fair for any of them. 

John sighed seeing his brother. "Alan, we’ll survive. When the company finally goes down we’ll still have a home and enough money for food and stuff. Dad and Scott will find something else to do and we’ll move on. You have too much promise to quit now." 

"But you and Virgil—" 

"We’ve made our decision and there’s nothing you can do about it." 

Alan shook his head. "I don’t believe that. I think there is something I can do and I am going to do it." 

"Alan—" 

"Don’t worry, I’m going to get Dr. Hackenbacker to help us. I’m sure I can convince him." 

"I wish I had your optimism. Ever since Mom died we’ve seen nothing but bad luck. I can’t see that luck changing any time soon." 

"Then you just wait, cause I am going to change it. You’ll see." 

"I hope you do, Alan. I really hope you do." 

—

Alan’s conversation with John had only filled him with determination to see his project through. He had everything he could possibly find on his father’s company, and his father’s dream. Now all he needed to do was to call and arrange an appointment with the engineer. 

He pulled out his wallet and slipped the business card out of it, flipped it over and laid it down on his desk in front of him. He sat there for a bit and just stared at it. It wasn’t until someone knocked on his bedroom door that he jumped and realized he had zoned out—thoughts of all kinds running through his head. 

"Alan, you in there? Kyle’s about got lunch ready—he’s making pizza—you want some?" 

Alan glanced at the clock, curious as to how long he had been sitting there staring at the card. His roommates hadn’t been home when he had first sat down and the numbers on his clock showed that it had been almost an hour since then. 

"Nah, I’m good." 

"Your loss." 

He could hear Matt yell down the hall that they’d get to split the pizza in half and Alan couldn’t help but smile at his friends. He shook his head though, he had a task to do and best to just get it done with. 

He pulled over his phone and punched in the numbers on the business card. It rang for quite a while and Alan thought it would just go to voicemail when it was finally answered. 

"H-hello? This is Hackenbacker speaking." 

"O-oh—" Alan was caught off guard a little but quickly shook his head and greeted the man. "My name is Alan Tracy. We talked in Professor Che’s office at Colorado State a couple of months ago." 

"Yes, Alan, of course I r-remember. Though I was expecting a call from your f-father, not you." 

"I didn’t think he’d call you, honestly. I’d like to meet with you if that’s possible. I have an idea I’d like to show you." 

"I’m not sure if I can take on any n-new projects through the university at the moment. I’m still trying to f-figure out my own s-situation." 

"No, it’s not with the University. This has to do with Dad’s rescue organization. I don’t think he would take me seriously if I asked him to call you, but if you would approach him, it might be different. I just want to show you my family’s current situation. I think if you knew exactly where he was, we’d be able to figure out a way to approach him to get the best results." 

"I s-suppose it wouldn’t hurt to hear you out." Alan could almost hear the smile in the engineer’s voice. "Are you still in Denver?" 

"Yeah, I’m staying for the summer." 

"Alright, then. I’ll be officially finished with Fischler at the end of the m-month. Are you g-going home for the Fourth?" 

"No, I have a race that weekend." 

"Well, then, I’ll come up and see you race and then we can have d-dinner and talk." 

"Do you mind doing that on the fifth. Dad is coming to see me fly and I’m sure he’ll want to have dinner that night." 

"Oh, of c-course. 

"Great!" 

"Alright. I will talk to you then." 

"Thank you, sir! I really do appreciate this!" 

"And I appreciate you t-trying to help your family." 

Alan hung up almost too excited to concentrate on anything, and in fact realized that he was actually quite hungry. 

"Hey, Kyle! You guys haven’t eaten all the pizza yet have you?" 

—

July Fourth came quickly as Alan worked on preparing for the race. It was only his second one, but many of the pilots participating would eventually end up in the Nationals later that fall. 

The races were set up in heats, ten to fifteen pilots would race at any one time till the numbers were brought down to the final heat. It had been difficult, the pilots Alan were against were veterans and tried to cut him off many times, but growing up with four brothers Alan was aware of a few tricks that got him out of so many situations. 

During the last lap of the final heat Alan had to vie his way to the finish line, the results of which nobody knew for about five minutes, but finally just as Alan was landing his coach announced that he had placed third. 

Alan had given out a loud woot into his coach’s ear which got him a laugh in return. As he taxied his plane to his designated waiting area he could see his father and brothers making their way to them and the smile on his face widened even more. 

"Alan! Great job!" His coach was up on the ladder on one side of him, helping to take off the canopy, one of the other helpers on the other side. 

"I can’t wait to see what the other pilots are saying!" Alan was ready to jump out of the plane as soon as the canopy had been eased down to the ground. 

"You’ll find out soon enough. I’m sure your family is eager to congratulate you as well, so better not keep them waiting. Is there anything about the plane I should know about?" 

Alan glanced to where said family were waiting on the edge of the parking area and then back to his coach. "Just the canopy, seemed like the release was sticking a little." 

"Alright, I’ll give it a look at later. Probably just needs some oil and grease." 

His coach made his way down the ladder allowing Alan to follow and run off toward his family. "Did you see!?" 

"That was an awesome job, Alan!" Scott grasped Alan’s shoulder and squeezed it hard. 

Virgil took his littlest brother and pulled him into a tight hug. "We are so proud of you!" 

"Oof, can’t breath, Virgil!" 

"Ah, sorry!" Virgil smiled and ruffled his hair a little. 

Alan turned to John who smiled down at him. "If I didn’t know better I’d almost say you were a better pilot than Scott." 

"And I’d have to agree, that was some fancy flying there at the end." 

"It sure was. We’re all quite proud of you, son." 

Alan felt his father’s hand on his head and even though the motion usually made him feel like a kid, for some reason it made his chest swell with pride. 

He wasn’t as good as Scott, he knew that much, but just the thought of being near the same level was exciting enough. 

"It’s settled then. For dinner we’re going to The Chophouse." 

Alan was pulled from his thoughts and ducked out from under his father’s hand. "What?" 

"It’s a night for a celebration! We need to go somewhere nice!" 

"But that place is expensive. Like we could easily spend my tuition money there in one night." 

"Don’t worry, Alan. I’ve got a little saved up. We don’t get to celebrate like this often so let’s go all out." Scott was smiling along side his father. 

Alan glanced at his other two brothers who did not look quite as excited though they too still had smiles on their faces. 

"No. Absolutely not!" Alan stomped his foot on the ground his hands in fists. "You cannot afford a place like that. There are other steakhouses that are cheaper. We can go to one of them." 

"What are you talking about?" Scott took a step forward his hand ready to clasp onto his shoulder again, but Alan ducked out of the way. 

"You’re poor! I know how bad the company is doing. It’s going bankrupt and you’re putting all the money you have into it. You don’t have any savings. You were probably going to put the meal on one of your maxed out credit cards and then the waiter would have to tell you that it didn’t go through and then cut the thing up at the table. Everyone would be looking at use, you’d be embarrassed, and we’d be stuck in the back doing dishes for the rest of the weekend to pay for the meal!" 

Scott opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but instead he frowned and pulled his hand back to him. "They don’t make you do dishes." He sighed and glanced over at the two standing off to the side. "Alright, who told?" 

Virgil and John, as if on cue, pointed to each other. 

"He was bound to find out, Scott." Virgil sighed shaking his head. "You weren’t going to be able to hide it forever." 

"And with the way things are going right now, he would have found out soon anyway." 

"We told you we would tell him." 

"When? Let him come home one day and find you and dad on the couch depressed cause you can’t find a job and don’t know what to do with yourselves?" 

"That wouldn’t—" 

"That’s not the point Scott." John took a step forward to stop any argument between the two eldest. "He is an adult, he has a right to know, so when he asked, we told him." 

Alan turned away from his brothers’ argument and to his father who was strangely quiet. He walked up to him his arms around his torso. "Why did you lie?" 

"I didn’t want you to worry." 

"You know I was worried anyway. I knew things weren’t going great." 

"I know. I keep wishing you were that innocent little kid still, but you’re not." 

"Why? Am I not allowed to grow up?" 

"I just have it in my mind that if you grow up then that’s one last connection I have with your mother. You were her last gift, I wanted to keep you as you were for as long as I could. Keeping the truth from you seemed to be the easiest way of doing that." 

Alan frowned, his father suddenly looked even older than he did during Spring Break. "I’m not going to suddenly disappear once I turn twenty-one." 

"Well, you never—" His father was cut short by Alan’s glare. "Alright, alright. Well then, might as well let the cat out of the bag." 

"Dad—" Scott took a step toward them but stopped when their father raised his hand. 

"Should have done this once the decision was made, but I’ve been keeping it quiet in hope that there was still something that could be done, but I’m just fooling myself." He took in a deep breath and gestured his sons closer to him. "As of the end of this month the company is bankrupt. We’ll be signing the papers and closing the doors." 

The boys were silent none of them surprised at the news, yet still in disbelief that it was finally, actually happening. 

Their meeting was interrupted by Alan’s coach, coming to lead the young pilot off to the awards ceremony. His family shook off the stillness of the situation and followed pushing forward once again the happiness the day had awarded them. 

They ended up going back to Alan’s apartment, he and his roommates working together to cook pizza for the group as a celebratory meal for them all. It had been a fun night, thoughts of the future pushed to the back of their minds for the moment, their joy at Alan’s first time placing in a race encompassing them all. 

However, Alan’s mind was still working, figuring out where he would put this information in his presentation to Dr. Hackenbacker the next day. It was now even more important to get the engineer to help his family.


	6. Thunderbirds are Go!

Alan got a message from the Engineer later that night while his family was still around. It was a congratulations on his race and the details for their meeting the next day. Alan answered it quickly so his brothers wouldn’t see what he was doing. 

His family left late that night and Alan tried to sleep, but he was too nervous to do so even though his body was protesting, so he just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling—predictions for the next day running one after another. 

The time of his meeting finally arrived and he made it to the restaurant—the Chophouse—about a half hour early and felt a little guilty that he had convinced his family against this very place the night before. He swore he would take them out there at some point—another thing to save up money for.

He was seated about ten minutes before the meeting time and had to wait another twenty minutes before the engineer showed up. 

"I’m s-sorry for being late. Fischler is still trying to find reasons t-to keep me on staff even though my contract is officially over." Dr. Hackenbacker ordered for the both of them and then finally seemed to relax and sigh. "There was a c-clause in my contract that I had to finish any project that I had started before I was officially free from said c-contract. I had purposefully not started anything in the past six months so that I could complete all the current projects that were already started. But he went into the archives and pulled out everything he had told me to d-ditch and said I needed to finish it." 

"How many abandoned projects did you have?" 

"T-too many. However after he started to do that I went back and made it look like they were all completed. They aren’t, and if he tries to use them they won’t do anything." 

"Can’t he come back and claim that you didn’t finish them? And what if he makes them public without testing them? Someone could get hurt!" 

Dr. Hackenbacker shook his head. "No, they don’t work at all. Nothing is going to happen when he flips the switch. And he already signed off on them, so it’s too late to claim that I didn’t actually finish them." The waiter brought their drinks and appetizer, setting it down between them and laying down a couple of small plates for them to use. 

"That’s good then." 

"But he is still sending me messages asking about various projects hoping he’ll find one I missed. But I made sure there is no way he can drag me back." 

"Was he really that bad?" 

"He has good intentions, but no p-patients." 

It was silent as they munched on the appetizer. Alan didn’t want to rush, and force anything on the man before him, but he was also quite eager to explain his idea. 

They were just finishing the appetizer when their main dishes were delivered. The engineer had ordered salmon for himself and a sizable steak for Alan. They remained silent during the first few bites but the engineer smiled over his plate and nodded at Alan. 

"If you don’t mind eating and talking, please tell me about your plan." 

Alan perked up and shoved a piece of his steak into his mouth. He moved the flowers and lamp off to the side of the table and cleared off a place to lay down his phone. A hologram appeared above it filled with text and numbers. 

"First I wanted to show you how my dad’s company is doing. Though I found out yesterday that this information is pointless now. He told us that they signed the papers and the doors are shutting down at the end of this month." 

Dr. Hackenbacker was still absently eating as he scrolled through the information displayed. "I-I’m impressed they were able to keep it going for so long." 

"If Scott hadn’t been putting his Air Force money into it, it probably would have gone down sooner." 

"I see he’s kept everyone’s salary about the same as day one? Even though they were losing money?" 

"Yeah, he doesn’t believe in cutting pay other than his own. He’s let a few people go, but because of their performance and not because he couldn’t afford them." 

"He didn’t replace them, though?" 

"Nah, couldn’t afford to. They have a skeletal staff really. He was working with local companies but nothing major. What they did do was good, and he refused to compromise quality." 

"One issue I see is that his prices are much too low. Why didn’t he ever raise them? His customers would have understood."

"He has a little, but he’s not really interested in making a huge profit at this point. He makes sure he can pay his employees first, buy new materials, and after that he gives a little to himself to pay for things and then he would always give a bit to charity as well."

"Do you happen to have a list of his clients?" 

"Yeah—here." Alan touched the phone a couple of times and a new document popped up. "They’re all super small companies who are barely holding on themselves. Basically they can’t afford anything like Fischler, so they go to Dad. But then Dad tries to make it affordable to them and then ends up hurting his own bottom line in doing so." 

"It is an honest but flawed practice. If he had g-gotten those government contracts he’d be able to do that and still be where Fischler is." Dr. Hackenbacker pinched his nose. "There really was no hope for the company was there." 

"No. But that dream of his you told me about. He still thinks about it. John helped me to get this information off his computer. He last accessed it himself a few months ago. I think he would still want to do it, he just doesn’t have the means right now and has given up on actually doing it."

Alan reached forward and brought up several documents to show the engineer. 

"Yes, I recognize many of this from when I spoke to him all those years ago. He said that most of the engineers he talked to just laughed at him. I ap-parently was the only one that was interested in the project." 

"Yeah, I looked up when the news hit that your contract with Fischler was ending, and that’s the same date as when he last looked at the files. My plan was for you to help the company get back on its feet. Maybe fund it a little and help him get some better contracts—but—" 

"I-I agree. I think this is still a worthy project and quite doable, more now than before. Plus, Fischler thought he was being smart with my contract, but I was the one that dealt with the government contracts. Those contracts are going to be up at the end of this year. They’ll start looking around and without me there—" 

"They’re not going to want to go to Fischler again. They’ll probably try to follow you, wherever you go!" Alan’s eyes had widened and he sat up even straighter than he had been. "Maybe we could convince him to restart the business!" Alans’ steak was forgotten as he pushed it aside. 

"An origination like this is going to need a lot of help. What are your brother’s up to?" 

"On the surface, not much, but look at this." Alan brought up a series of folders, each labeled with his brothers’ names. He clicked on John’s first. "There are five papers about Stellar phenomenon and four about interstellar communications that John has co-authored. "

"I don’t see his name on the paper." 

"That’s because it’s in the back as a contributor, but look at the footnote." Alan clicked to a section labeled Acknowledgments. 

There was John’s name as a contributor with an asterisk next to it. At the bottom of the page the asterisk read, "Amateur astronomer who could have written this on his own if he’d only finished his degree." 

Dr. Hackenbacker couldn’t help but laugh. "That’s a b-bit harsh." 

"Maybe, but it’s true." Alan smirked a little. "He’s been working with a couple of professors at MIT and according to them he’d able to get in without any problem. Only we can’t pay for it and since he’s not right out of school there aren’t any scholarships he could apply for. Same for Virgil—" 

Alan brought up the picture of his brother’s plans for the cargo plane. "This is completely Virgil’s design. He’s gotten a little bit of help from a professor at the Denver Institute for Technology, but otherwise has just been reading everything he can get his hands on." 

"Hmm." Dr. Hackenbacker brought the phone closer and zoomed in on the plans. "This is an interesting design, but it will not fly with current technology. However, if we made some adjustments I believe it could get air-born and fly quite well." 

"What do you mean 'with current technology'?" 

"Well, I’ve been working on a special type of engine in my head. I haven’t been able to work on it properly because I couldn’t while in Fischler’s employ—he owns anything I’ve made while with him and I really hate to thing what he would do with the engine I have in my head. I’m i-itching to get working on it." He smiled a little and pushed the phone back. "What about your other brother? You have four right?" 

"Yeah, Gordon! I don’t have anything specific on him cause he’s in WASP and well, you know them." 

The engineer laughed a little and nodded. 

"But he’s broken swimming records with them, and is one of their lead divers—youngest one ever! Not to mention he was just recently on a year long research mission for them in the Pacific! And he just got picked to be a member on their new hydrofoil!" 

"That is something to be proud of." Dr. Hackenbacker smiled at Alan. "I think I may have an idea. I don’t want to give you too much hope at the moment, so I won’t tell you what it is I’m thinking, but if it works out, you’ll probably be hearing about it soon." 

Soon wasn’t soon enough for Alan. They finished their meal keeping the conversation neutral and parted ways with a promise of talking again soon. 

July flew by and as promised their father kept them all up to date with what was going on as the company came to a close. However once everything was done, Alan was starting to get a bit antsy. He didn’t want to bug the engineer, but he was afraid his father would start investing in something else and not be able to agree to whatever the engineer was planning. 

"Dad, why don’t you just take a break for like a month or something. You’ve worked hard most of your life, take it easy for a bit." They were sitting on the front steps of the house—Alan having used the last days of summer to visit his family. 

Jeff chuckled at his youngest. "I’ve never taken it easy my whole life. I’m not sure I can, to be honest." 

"Well then, are you going to look into another business?" 

"I’ve tried that. It’s obvious that’s not going to work for me." 

"But, the plan!" Alan clapped his mouth shut when he realized he had let it slip. 

His father looked down at him. "The plan? Alan, what are you scheming?" 

"I—" Alan looked away from his father and kicked at the dirt on the ground. "I’ve been talking with Doctor Hiram Hackenbacker—" 

"No. I had my chance with him. He choose Fischler." 

"But his contract is up. He’s free to make another choice!" 

His father stood and stretched his back a bit. "It’s too late. I’ve already been looking at the future. Owning a company and that organization—it was a dream that was never meant to be." 

"Dad!" 

His father turned around and smiled down at him. "I appreciate it Alan. I do. I’ve got enough saved to help you finish your undergrad. I’ve been talking with Colonel Casey about being a civilian contractor for the GDF. That will give me the money to help you and I’ll finally be able to send your brothers’ off to finally follow their dreams." 

"But that was your dream! It’s what you’ve been working for all my life!" 

"The weird thing about dreams, Alan, is that they sometimes change. Now my dream is to see you and your brothers enjoying your lives, doing what you dream. Not hanging around and getting pulled down by my long past fantasies."

"But, Dad—" 

"That’s the end of it, Alan." His father took the few steps up to the porch but paused at the door. "Let me know when Nationals are. We’ll be there to support you. But do try to keep your grades up. I doubt you want Scott to come down and lecture you." 

Alan couldn’t help but smile at the comment and promised he would. However he was starting to lose his hope that the engineer would come up with a plan to help his family in time. The prospect of his father working for the GDF was good for both his father and their family. There was even the chance that Scott could return to the Air Force if things were settled soon. 

—

The next couple of months seemed to crawl by. Alan still hadn’t heard anything from Dr. Hackenbacker, and when he tried to reach out he got nothing—the engineer never returned his phone calls or email. 

Nationals crept up on him fast though, and before he knew it, it was mid November and he was in New Mexico checking over his plane before his first heat of the day. 

Everyone was there to watch—even Gordon had somehow managed to get the time off to come see him—which both excited Alan and made him horrible nervous.

"Allie, calm down. I’ve never seen you so stiff before." Gordon clapped a hand on Alan’s uniformed shoulder and gave him a quick massage.

"Well, this is a big race. I’m like one of the only racers here without a sponsor. I’ve go to be at my best!" 

"You’ve got nothing to worry about! You could fly circles around Scooter." 

"I-I’m not so sure about that." Alan glanced over at his eldest brother who was with his father talking to his coach. 

"Alan, relax. You have the skills, you’ve proven that the past few months." Virgil reached over and ruffled Alan’s hair. "Take a few deep breaths and put yourself in the zone." 

"Isn’t this course a bit long?" John was off to the side looking through the program on his phone.

"It used to be a lot shorter." Alan jumped at the chance to explain something to him and get his mind off of the race for just a moment. "But with the higher speeds the jets are going nowadays they expanded the course last year. The average time it takes to finisis about a half hour, but of course we’re all trying to get under that." 

"Alan, we need to get going." It was Alan’s coach, waving to his father and brother as he headed off toward his plane. 

"Alan." 

Alan turned to his father and brother. He smiled and threw up a peace sign. "I’ll talk to you after the race! On the podium!" With a laugh Alan took off after his coach toward the hangers. 

"You really think he’s going to be okay?" Gordon stood with his hands on his hips watching his brother disappear in the distance. 

"He’s a Tracy. We do what we set out to do." 

"Most of us at least." Scott raised an eyebrow at his father.

"Hey, now. Who was the first man on Mars again? This old man seems to have forgotten." He smiled at his sons who laughed in return. 

They made their way up the stands to the top where they could see the farthest. There were a few whispers as they passed, the stands full of flight enthusiasts noticing a rather famous face among the family. 

"Excuse me." The voice was small and they all had to look down to find its source. 

Gordon was the first to squat down to the young boy who held a notebook to his chest. "Hey, what can we do for you?" 

The boy completely ignored Gordon though, and looked up at their father. "Are you Colonel Jeff Tracy?" 

Gordon followed the boy’s gaze and grinned up at his father. "Looks like you have a fan. Pretty good for an old man." 

"Gordon, come on." Virgil grabbed Gordon’s shirt and tugged him to his feet, pulling him past their father. 

Their father stiffly squatted down so he was closer to the young boy. "I am. And what is your name." 

"Alexander." 

"Well, it’s nice to meet you Alexander. Are you going to be a pilot when you get older?" 

The boy nodded and then pointed to one of the planes on the far side of the field. "My daddy is flying today." 

"Well, that’s something great isn’t it. I’d cheer him on, but my son is flying today too." 

The boy nodded and smiled. "Can I have your autograph?" He held out his notebook with a pen in hand. 

"Of course. Must say, haven’t done this in a while." He took the notebook and allowed the boy to help him find the perfect spot before signing his name and handing it back. 

Once the deed was done he continued up the steps to join the others. 

"Nice to know you’re still recognized isn’t it?" Scott scooted down a bit so his father could sit down next to him. 

"Ah, but I’m glad I don’t have to do the whole stand and be recognized bit. That got embarrassing after awhile. I wasn’t the only one involved in the mission after all." 

However the news of Jeff Tracy’s appearance at that year’s event hadn’t gone un-noticed. Several more people had climbed the stairs to shake his hand and get his autograph. His sons could do nothing but smile as he interacted with his fans, knowing that no matter how much he complained, he rather did like the attention. 

After awhile everyone seemed to settle down as the latest of the races was getting started. It was the jet planes, Alan’s heat. They announced the pilots, Alan coming in last having not established a qualifying time for the course. 

The planes were lined up on the runway in their order of takeoff. The pilots were just outside of their planes as the announcer asked for everyone to stand for the pledge. 

"But before we do that we would like to recognize a special guest in the stands today. He may be here to cheer on his son, but I am sure he’s influenced a lot of pilots here today. Please give a warm hand to the first man on Mars, Colonel Jeff Tracy over in the B stands!" 

There was a roar of applause as their father stood and waved at the crowd. Scott looked down at the runway and could see their youngest with his hand over his mouth laughing. He pointed his brother out to his father as they started the pledge. 

"Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time to get him back later." Their father smiled at Scott as they sat down and the race was started. 

The first race of the day zipped by in a flash. Alan finished in second place and his name started to get heard all over. Some were bitter—blaming him on using his father’s name to get into the races. Others were hopeful—a new, young, pilot to upset the standard was needed to make things exciting again. For good or for Bad his name was everywhere. 

Alan didn’t have much time to rest. Three more heats and he was back in the air for another race. He didn’t place as well, but enough to move on. It was getting late in the day when the final race started. 

The planes took off one by one, circling the airspace above them until finally Alan took to the skies. They did two more pace laps before the airhorn sounded and they were given the go to start. The jets were gone in a flash. 

The race would be over after twenty laps of the course. When the planes came around the first time Alan was still at the rear, by the third lap he had moved up to tenth out of the fifteen planes on the course. 

Five laps down and Alan was slowly making his way up in the field at fifth place. It would be amiss to say that when the planes came around on lap eleven his family’s hearts didn’t speed up at how tight the front of the pack was—Alan smack in the middle vying for third place. 

Lap twelve and he was in fourth, lap fourteen and he was in third again. Lap fifteen and the pack crossed the finish line, only Alan’s plane was not among them. 

Another small pack finished the race, but none were the number 3 red that Alan piloted. 

They were all getting antsy as more planes landed, but no site of Alan. 

Their father was the first to stand and make his way down the stands, followed by the others. They were met at the bottom by an anxious looking man who didn’t make any of them feel any better. 

They were led to a small building near the air control tower. When they stepped inside the place was both noisy and had a very nervous calm to it. 

"Mr. Tracy." A woman walked up to him and gestured for him and his family to sit at a nearby table. 

"What is going on? Where is Alan? He hasn’t passed the finish line." 

"I’m afraid your son and Michael Demmens, the pilot of the number 10 plane had an accident. As I’m sure you were aware they were fighting for third place. From what some of the other pilots have said Michael took a turn too tight and clipped wings with Alan. They thought Alan was going to make it, he was taking the close call perfectly, but Michael not so much. It seems that Michael over-corrected and flew right into Alan’s plane. They both went down." 

"And the pilots just came on in and finished the race?" Virgil growled a little. 

"No. All the pilots have agreed to null the results. They landed and joined search and rescue to retrieve the two." 

"Oh—sorry." 

"Don’t be. I would have the same reaction if it had been my sister that had crashed." The woman smiled softly. "They should be arriving any moment." 

The woman moved as another person sat down cups of coffee for the family. They sat there and sipped at the black liquid waiting when finally a man with wind blown hair crashed through the door. 

"Molly. We have a bit of a situation." 

"What’s going on?" 

"We got Michael, but Alan’s plane—we can’t get to him, it’s on a ledge, he’s not responding and—" 

Their father stood, his height seeming to tower over everyone there. "What do you mean you can’t get to him?" 

"I’m sorry, Colonel, sir, we don’t have the right equipment." 

"I’ll call around and see if we can’t get any help." The woman was gone without a moment to lose. 

"Dad, they’re doing all they can." Scott reached up and tugged on his father’s arm. 

Their father flopped back down in his chair his head going in his hands. "That’s the same thing they said when—" He bit his lip unwilling to finish the sentence. 

The brothers glanced at each other willing one of the others to come up with some sort of plan. 

There were people running around the room in a frantic, but the Tracy family was silent. It was Scott’s phone that broke that silence and for a moment he thought of ignoring the call, but something in him disagreed. 

"This is Scott Tracy." 

"Scott. You do not know me, but I had been talking with Alan for the past few months. I was listening in to the race and they just announced what happened. If you can get access to the military hangers on the east side of the air strip I may just be able to help you save your brother." 

"What are you talking about? Who is this?" 

"I-I’m sorry. My name is Hiram Hackenbacker. I’m an engineer. Please, there is little time to waste." 

"Hiram Hackenbacker?" 

"Are you talking to him?" Virgil’s head popped up at the name. "Does he have a plan?" 

"You know him?" 

"I know of him. Listen to him." 

"Alright, Virgil seems to know you so I’ll listen." Scott switched his phone to speaker so everyone could hear the engineer.

"I’m on a plane heading your way now. Get into that hanger, they should have a plane you can use. I’m bringing with me some new equipment. We’ll get your brother. I promise." 

"I’ve had enough promises!" Their father slapped the table and stood. "They promised me then too and look what happened." 

"Dad, we’ve got to try." 

"With what? If the emergency crews don’t have what is needed, how is some engineer calling from nowhere going to have it." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair pulling at it a little. "I-I can’t go through this. Not again. Not with Alan." He turned and left. 

"Scott?" 

"The emergency crews don’t have what they need. I promise you I do." 

"But why do you have it?" Scott was looking between his brothers and the door their father had disappeared behind. 

"You know of your father’s dream?" The engineer waited for the confirmation from all of the brothers before continuing. "Alan and I have been talking about it. I couldn’t help thinking of some things I’d like to make for such an organization so I went ahead and made them. Mind you they’re prototypes so there is some risk, but I think this is the only way to save your brother." 

The family looked at each other before Scott nodded. "Alright. I’ll get us into the hanger, but I do hope you know what you’re doing." 

The brothers left the building without another word to their father. Scott on his phone calling up old contacts while they made their way across the airport. 

By the time they reached the hangers, the door had been opened and a solder was waving them in. 

"What is that?" Gordon whistled a little at the plane that sat inside. 

"It’s a prototype. They were going to show it off this weekend, otherwise it would have been elsewhere. I’m not sure how that man knew about this, it took me talking to a General to admit it was even here, let alone to let me have access to it." 

"They’re going to let you fly it?" Virgil was walking around the plane admiring it.

"I explained the situation. They agreed as long as I was the pilot." 

"Don’t w-worry Virgil. You and G-Gordon will get to ride along." 

The brothers jumped a little at the voice and turned to find the young engineer in the doorway. 

"You sure got here fast?" Gordon crossed his arms a little. 

"I was in Las Vegas at a c-conference." He walked up to the group quickly, a large bag in tow. "Virgil and Gordon will ride with Scott. You will get down to where Alan is using these." He dropped the bag and opened it, pulling various things out as he talked. "The harnesses are extra durable with plenty of places to attach equipment as well. The grappling guns will anchor into rock easily and you can attach the other end to the plane. Then it converts to a zip-line with a break in the handle to slow you down as you get to the bottom. You’ll need a couple small air tanks because of the altitude the plane will be hovering at, and a first aid kit since we do not know what condition Alan is in." 

"Can’t the plane just takes us closer?" 

"That’s part of the issue. You’ll see once you’re there. Scott won’t even be able to hover above the crash site. You two will have to slide down the rope from the plane, but you cannot land on the plane, it might just tip it over. The wind has been threatening to do it already."

"And once we’re there?" 

"Virgil will need to secure the plane using this high density webbing. It’s light weight but should be able to hold the plane in place long enough for Gordon to extract your brother and give him basic first aid."

"You can play spider-man, Virg!" Gordon chuckled as he elbowed his brother. 

"Not now, Gordon." Virgil growled back, not in the mood for his brother’s joking. 

The engineer ignored the comment and continued on. "By that point Scott can come to you with the plane and you can load your brother up and bring him here. The webbing will last for a few days to give the authorities the opportunity to retrieve the plane and then it will disintegrate in the next rainfall." 

"What about John?" Gordon looked over at his brother who was standing off to the side. 

"I’m fine not being involved Gordon. Not exactly up to your skills." 

"I will need John in the control tower with me. The plane is a prototype, and not complete. Her scanners and radar are pretty much non existent. The pilot flying it for the show was going to use basic GPS to do a quick lap and then land. I’m going to need John’s help to hack into a few satellites and be your eyes." 

Scott frowned a little. Not only was he expected to fly an experimental plane, but do so blindly. "How do you know so much about this aircraft?" 

The engineer smiled a little at Scott. "I designed it." 

"Come on Scott, what choice do we have. Who else is going to be able to get Alan at this point." 

"Why can’t they do a land rescue?" 

"According to this data—" John stepped forward after looking at a tablet the engineer had handed him. "There are no access roads and to go on foot would take at least twelve hours. Considering we don’t know Alan’s condition that would be too risky." 

"And probably their only choice at the moment." The engineer pushed the bag toward Virgil’s feet. 

"I say let’s do it." Gordon dove into the bag and pulled out the jumpsuit and harness to suit up. 

"Scott? I know you’re worried, but you know Dad wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened to Alan. None of us would." Virgil reached out and squeezed Scott’s shoulder. 

"I know." Scott pinched his lips. "But if something happens to all of us—" 

"And what if we do nothing when we could have done something. I don’t think that would settle with any of us any better." John crossed his arms his decision made as well. 

Scott look at his brothers and nodded. "Alright. Let me get suited up. John you go with—Hackenbacker was it?"

"You can just c-call me Brains." 

"Right then—John, go with Brains and get us some eyes up there. We’ll be ready in five." 

The plane was small, one pilot, but room In the hold for up to three—crouched down as the two brothers were. It was designed to be maneuverable and quick. 

Scott took the plane out and took off as if it was any normal plane he had flown, but that was where the similarities ended. He was in a constant conversation with Brains on where he was, where he needed to go, and how the plane would accomplish their task. 

Virgil and Gordon were just passengers, looking out the one small window as the ground flew past. It only took them a few minutes to reach the crash site and already they understood the situation their brother was in. 

The plane had gotten caught in a valley between two rocky outcroppings. Its nose was almost straight down, but the wings were holding it in place—for the time being. Even at their distance they could see that the wings were slowly giving out. The drop from were the plane hung wasn’t far, but a head on like that could possibly mean non survival for their littlest brother. 

"Virgil, can you hear me?" Scott’s voice startled Virgil as it came over the comm unit that Brains had given them. "I’m going to hover just south of the plane. There’s solid rock you and Gordon can land on." 

"FAB." It had been something their father had made up when they had been small and playing adventures with him—a unique reply they would use that couldn’t be easily confused with other things. Virgil used the code as if time hadn’t passed for them and his brothers accepted it without question. 

Gordon opened the door and wind whipped around the two. The plane held steady as Virgil aimed his grappling gun and fired into the flat rock near the plane. He attached the other end just as Brains had showed him and then looked back at Gordon. "Ready?" 

"Let’s go." Gordon nodded and watched as Virgil stepped out of the plane and flew down the line. He attached his own grappling gun to the line and did the same. 

Virgil landed with a stumble before falling to his knees. He tore off the oxygen mask gasping for fresh air. 

Gordon landed behind him a little more elegantly—though he would have had some of his WASP commanders complaining if he hadn’t—and dropped down next to Virgil to made sure he was alright. 

Virgil nodded at his brother’s questions and stood. He detached his grappling gun from the plane and Scott took it to a higher hovering altitude so as not to disturb the crash site. Virgil then reloaded the gun and swung himself out in front of the plane. 

"How does he look?" Gordon was leaning over the edge watching. 

"He’s not moving, but looks like he’s still breathing." 

"That’s a relief at least." Gordon nodded as he detached his own grapple gun from the used line and made sure it was ready. When he got back over to the edge Virgil had gotten the first bit of webbing wrapped around the nose of the plane. "I’m going to come down and work on getting him out." 

"After I get this secured I’m going to work on the wings and anchor the tail as well." 

"FAB." Gordon fired his gun into the rock next to him and then attached it to his harness. He was able to make a controlled decent and land right next to the cockpit. "You know, WASP would kill for grapplers like this." 

"You’ll have to mention that to Brains when we get back. How is he?" 

"I’m just—getting—" There was a grunt as Gordon pulled on the emergency release that should have popped the canopy off from the main body of the plane, but nothing happened. "Brains, you listening in? We have a problem. Found the reason he didn’t eject. The canopy is not budging." 

"But if he did eject but the canopy didn’t—" Virgil mumbled. "Brains have them prepare for possible concussion and neck injuries when we get back." 

"U-understood. G-Gordon, you can permanently attach the line to your harness then detach the gun from your side—" 

"Oh, I see what you mean. Sweet. But then what?" 

"There is a laser attached to the gun. You can use it to cut open the canopy." 

"FAB" Gordon detached the grapple gun from his side and went to work. It was a painstaking process and Virgil had fully secured the plane by the time he was able to push the canopy away from the plane and watch it as it crashed into the ground below. "Looks like the seat is detached. He did try to eject." 

"Damn, what’s his heart rate like?" Scott was grinding his teeth. The propulsion used to eject those seats was nothing to joke about. 

"Weak, but steady. I’d really prefer not to remove him from the seat at all—Brains, you got anything on these harnesses to help secure his head to the seat as we pull him out?" 

"Gordon, I’ve got some extra webbing. It’ll do the trick." 

"A-agreed. That will be the best thing." 

Gordon took the extra webbing and secured his brother’s head. Then with Virgil’s help they attached the wire from their grappling guns to the seat. "Brains, will this wire support Alan and the seat? They’re pretty heavy." 

"Yes. As I’ve been told in the past, I tend to over-engineer things." 

"That’s music to my ears." Virgil let a small smile through. "Scott, the plane should be secure, we need you to come down and lift Alan out of the plane." 

"FAB." With Brains and John’s help, Scott brought the plane down, Virgil fired his grappling up into its belly and then slowly they pulled the seat with their brother out of the wreckage. 

They set the seat on the rocks behind the plane where Virgil and Gordon had landed. Virgil went to work to make sure the oxygen tank in the chair was still providing air to Alan while Gordon did a quick check on his brother. 

"There aren’t any obvious injuries, but if he did hit that canopy at speed—" Gordon didn’t want to finish his sentence. 

"The chair is functioning properly as far as I can tell. Scott find a place to land and help us get him into the plane." 

A moment later, the sleek black plane was resting on the rock not far from where his brothers were. He got out and helped them drag the seat into the plane. Once everyone was secure he took off and back to the airfield. 

Scott landed and within moments an ambulance was pulling up beside them. They pulled the plane’s seat out and helped with transferring their brother from it to a backboard and stretcher. His helmet was carefully removed and a neck brace was placed around his neck as they strapped him in. 

By the time they were loading him into the ambulance their father appeared on a golf cart and jumped in with him and then he was gone. 

The three brothers stood next to the plane and watched the ambulance disappear. John and Brains had showed up as they were still moving Alan into the ambulance and only after the frenzy of everything had faded did Virgil sit down hard and run a shaky hand through his hair. "I-I can’t believe we just did that." 

"This was your father’s dream." Brains looked at the four brothers. "He wanted to save those that couldn’t be saved by normal means." 

"We know what his dream was." Scott smirked a little. 

"But did you know he had hoped you all would help him?" 

That erased the smirk from Scott’s face. "Help him? How?" 

"An ace pilot, a future engineer, an up and coming programmer and astrophysicist, a diver and biologist, and then your brother—astro-mechanics I believe is what he’s wanting to do. Plus we all saw his skills in a plane. Imagine them applied to a rocket ship." Brains smiled at them. "Your father dreamed of saving others along side his own sons—as long as they wanted to that is." 

"And why are you bringing this up now?" 

"I told you, I’ve been talking to Alan." 

"And you want to help our dad make his dream come true?" 

"I do." 

"But the company has been closed for the past few months already." Virgil stood and stepped up next to his eldest brother. 

"That doesn’t mean we couldn’t start another—with the right funding of course" Scott looked down at Virgil. 

"And Alan did mention that Brains is no longer tied to Fischler so all those government contracts he has—" Gordon smiled at the idea. 

"They will f-follow me." 

"Alright, this is definitely something we should discuss. But first I think we should get to the hospital and be with Dad." Scott unzipped his flight suit ready to get going. 

"Agreed." Virgil did the same. Soon they were back in their own clothes and on their way. 

— 

Alan groaned. He knew better than to drink from a glass he did not pour himself—especially after having been told it was a rite of passage for freshmen. Plus it seemed his neighbor had decided to play his music extra loud—the thumping of the base echoed against his skull. 

He moved to pull his blankets over his head, only he found he couldn’t—or rather it felt like his arms were made of lead. He pried his eyes open, expecting to find the white ceiling of his dorm room, the poster of Mars tacked above him, but while the ceiling above him was white, there was no red planet anywhere. 

"Alan?" The voice was low, deep, and at a whisper. Alan tried to move his head, but that he definitely couldn’t do. "Hold on now, don’t want to hurt yourself more than you already are." 

A moment later he could feel someone sit on the bed next to his legs and his father’s face appeared before him, his eyes bloodshot and tired looking. 

"What?" Alan’s voice was horse, his throat dry.

"You crashed your plane. Do you remember?" 

Alan frowned a little and slowly a few things started to pop back into his mind. The race—nationals—"I-I was in third place—" 

"And then one of the other pilots clipped your wing. You corrected properly, he did not and brought you both down." 

"I don’t remember that." 

"That’s alright. Probably best you didn’t." His father smiled a little. "From what we can tell you tried to eject, but the canopy malfunctioned. Caused quite a bit of trauma to your head and neck. Though—" He held up his hand before Alan could say anything. "—the doctors think you’re going to make a full recovery. Just gotta keep the neck still till swelling goes down and things heal on their own." 

"Why can’t I move my arms?" He was tired, and all this information was threatening to overwhelm him as tears started to fall down his cheeks. 

His father just chuckled as he reached forward and wiped the tears away. "Well, that has nothing to do with your injury. You have Scott laying on one, and Gordon on the other. Virgil and John are on the couch. We tried to send each other to a hotel, but we’re all just too stubborn. Mother will be here tomorrow so I’m sure she’ll be able to shoo us out to get some proper sleep." 

"Good. You look horrible." Alan smiled a little, but the tears still fell. 

"Well it has been a long sixteen hours. You started to come around in the ambulance, but they sedated you to keep you still since we still weren’t sure how bad your neck was." 

"Good thing most of the pilots are trained responders, huh?" Alan chuckled a little, but then groaned as the movement jarred his head a little. 

"Actually you had yourself in quite a pickle. It was your brothers that ended up rescuing you. Well, with the help of Brains that is." 

"Brains?" 

"Ah, Dr. Hackenbacker, your engineer friend. He had been listening to the race and came as soon as he heard with equipment they could use. We’ve been doing quit a bit of talking while you’ve been sleeping." 

"You and Dr. Hackenbacker? But I thought—" 

"Unfortunately it took another accident to remind me of why that had been my dream in the first place. Plus your brothers’ nagging helped. Tracy Material and Equipment is done. There’s nothing I can do now to save it. However, Tracy Industries will be a new and upcoming company that will be looking at take over many government contracts from Fischler Technologies. With the help of one newly hired Hiram Hackenbacker." 

"But how? I thought we were bankrupt?" 

"Well, I had offered my employees a good severance package. I called a few of them and they’re willing to return a portion of the money for employment in the new company. Then of course, Brains was more than happy to invest and become my new partner." 

Alan’s smile widened. "I can’t wait to see how it turns out." 

"Me neither. Now I know you just woke up, but you look like you could doze right off again. Get some sleep. Your brothers will want to chat your ear off when you wake up next." 

Alan couldn’t argue, his eyelids were getting heavy and a yawn escaped as he slowly drifted off, dreams of the future making him smile as he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't plan to extend this any more. In my head Gordon does still get into the hydrofoil accident in about a year, but Brains helps with the cost of recovery without any question. Everyone goes to school and helps build up the company and the origination and things become as we know them. A happy ending XD


End file.
